Affections of Candour
by Jellyfax
Summary: James Tiberius Kirk, son of George and Winona Kirk, step-son of Admiral Christopher Pike. That's how he's introduced. All Jim really wanted to do was be himself, run off and see the stars, live his life the way he wanted to. Instead he was stuck exchanging pleasantries with dignitaries, getting snubbed by haughty Vulcans, and drowning in Academy exam work, which sucks! (P&P au)
1. Chapter 1

**Oh gosh, wow ... it feels like I've been writing this forever! I finally decided to post it ... *hyperventilates* ... there are going to be a fair few chapters (quite how many depends on how I chop it up) and because I have uni exams there may be a little time between them, but stick with it, and let me know if there are any mistakes!**

 **Aaaaaalrighty then! This chapter is not massively indicative of the rest of the fic (i.e. not much actually goes on, it's more scene setting because it's half of one chapter that really got away from me) but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I don't normally ship McCoy/Uhura, but I reckon it works for the purpose of the story (at least I think so, let me know if you think otherwise)**

 **Some things may seem a little OOC at first, but that's for a reason, I promise!**

 **A massive thank you to the lovely people who put up with me spamming them with this. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

James Tiberius Kirk had been born under an unlucky star. That is, he would have been if he had believed in astrology at all. In reality he knew that stars were just giant, burning balls of incandescent gas, hurtling around space in a never ending dance, providing life and taking it away. If a planet were too close, and without a thick enough atmosphere, the entire surface would burn. If it were too far away, it would be a wasteland, completely incapable of supporting life. It wasn't the stars that dictated the tragedy in Kirk's life, it was the cruelty of people. His father had been a great man. He was Captain for only eight minutes, but he saved eight hundred lives, at the cost of his own. It had happened on the same day as James' birth.

As if losing a parent before he even had a chance to know them wasn't bad enough, Jim grew up living in his father's shadow. Every mistake he made, every opportunity that he missed, was just another excuse to compare him to George. His mother had always been the worst. Every day he grew up to be more and more like her husband, and every day it killed her a bit more.

When Jim was nine his mother almost remarried. The man was an abusive drunk, but he always agreed to stay home with the boys. It doesn't bear thinking about what would have happened if Christopher Pike hadn't shown up one day. He heard the screaming and the fighting and kicked the door in as Frank had raised his fist to Sam while Jim cowered in the corner.

Winona may have been a distracted mother, but there was nothing that she wouldn't have done for her sons, or the man who saved them. So the Kirks became the Pikes for a while, and things were good. Pike was a Starship Captain, and a well-respected one at that. When Jim was fifteen, he was promoted to Admiral ahead of schedule due to excellent service to the fleet. Unfortunately for James, this meant that his life, that had at one point finally settled into obscurity, was soon to become filled with important people, and functions and society. He had forgotten what it was like to be in the spotlight. He had forgotten how much he hated it. Soon, he wasn't just Jim Pike, the Captain's step son, he was James T. Kirk, youngest son of the heroic George Kirk, and step-son of Admiral Christopher Pike.

Any choice that he might have had in his future was lost. He was going to attend the Academy, he was going to accompany his mother and stepfather to society balls, important diplomatic functions, and be constantly under the watchful eye of the general public.

He had attempted to get away by volunteering to be a Young Ambassador on Tarsus IV. His mother and Pike had thought that it was a great idea. At least it had been, until the Kodos incident. Once again, Jim's unlucky star placed him on the wrong side of Kodos' selected groups. His allergies and general scrawny nature had him tossed from the genetic pile, starved and then herded with others like cattle to the slaughter. Fortunately, being born unlucky had hardened Jim; he was resourceful, he hid, scrounged for food, saved as many other children as he could. By the time the Federation got there, four thousand people had died, and Jim had almost been one of them.

For anyone else this would have been a sign, an opportunity to turn his life around, to stop playing truant, to stop getting into fights and drinking underage. For Jim, it was just another chapter in his life that was being dictated by some higher power. For anyone else, the whole thing would have been a godsend. For Jim it was just a reminder of who he had lost, and the little Iowa farm-boy he would never have the chance to be again.

He was sorely reminded of this fact once again as he tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. It was fastened tightly with an ornate clasp, but he had refused to wear the ridiculous cravat. It was bad enough that he had to wear the stiff jacket, its old fashioned buttons and trim cut making it incredibly difficult to sit comfortably.

His mother swatted his hand away from his neck and gave him a pointed look.

"I don't see why I have to wear this stupid thing! I don't see why I have to be here at all! Sam isn't here, if I have to be here dressed like a complete idiot, why doesn't he?" Jim grumbled petulantly.

His mother smiled tightly, "Because, Jim dear, your brother is married and living on another planet. You are hopelessly single and still living at home. The least you can do is come to the functions Christopher and I are invited to. It does always specify you are invited too."

Jim looked at her incredulously, "I'm not hopelessly single!"

Pike laughed at that, "You have to admit, he's never short of a pretty girl on his arm. Or guy … or androgyne..."

Winona harrumphed giving her husband another of her famous looks. "They do not count. That reputation of yours is the reason you still get invited, you know. Like it or not, you are a handsome boy-" She looked at him and sighed, "Okay, a handsome man, and there are quite a few eligible men and women who are interested in you. Lord knows why, with the way you act, Jim!"

Jim raised a brow. "Stuffy Federation functions aren't exactly the ideal place to pick up a date, Mom. I prefer bars and coffee shops. Sometimes the odd motor derby..."

His mother threw her arms into the air exasperatedly, looking at her husband in despair.

Pike shook his head. "You know, Jim, I hate these ridiculous costumes too. And, yes, these things are stuffy, and samey, and they're always full of the same stuck up people-"

"Christopher!" Winona interjected, "You aren't helping!"

"If you'd give me a second to finish what I was saying, dear." he replied, dryly. "They may be full of the same stuck up people, but this is where you can make connections. Connections are some of the greatest assets in a young cadet's career. How do you think we even got the Academy to look at your application? It sure wasn't due to your spotless record."

Jim coughed and scratched the back of his neck self-consciously.

"It's because of me, your mother, and the fact that you're George Kirk's son."

Winona's eyes strayed to the window of the car, fixed on some point in the near distance, glassy and unfocused. Eighteen years later and she still couldn't hear his name.

Jim swallowed thickly, looking anywhere but at his mother. "My GPA may have something to do with it too, you know."

Pike's expression softened. "You're a smart kid, Jim. I guess I'm just glad you've decided to do something with your life. There was a while where we weren't sure you were going to make it out of school, let alone into the Academy." He glanced briefly at his wife, whose gaze had moved from the window to her son, studying his face with a sadness that she didn't even try to hide.

"Jim, dear." She said quietly. "I know you think that have all the time in the world, but you're not getting any younger. If … if your father's death could teach you anything it's that life is short. Find someone to care about and spend as much time with them as possible. Do everything you want, achieve everything you can. You never know when you'll have to say goodbye."

Jim sat silently for a few moments, his mother's words playing in his head. He had never really found anyone he wanted to settle down with. Frankly, settling down sounded like the worst possible scenario for him. He only agreed to apply to Starfleet because it would mean the greatest escape of all. He wanted to see the stars. He wanted to explore, see all of the strange, new places that the universe had to offer. It was the only advantage to this whole thing. Being an Iowa farm-boy was all well and good, but a farm-boy never got to see the stars. Only ever in the night sky, and there was so much more out there than Earth could ever offer him.

"I'll just never get attached then. Saves me the hassle. I'll become a Captain, be married to my ship, the crew can be my family and I never have to set foot in another fucking ballroom ever again." he said with a grin.

Pike rolled his eyes, a sad smile playing over his features.

"Just try not to make a scene this time, and we'll call it quits, okay?"

The San Francisco Starfleet Headquarters made quite the ballroom. Swathes of glass and gleaming chrome reflected the lights and the bright colours of the costumes and garments of the guests, making the room shimmer and shine. The floor was polished granite, glittering with flecks of quartz and biotite and feldspar. The ceiling was high and towards the back was a second floor room, a wall of glass looking over the ballroom, connected to the floor with a twisting staircase.

The various Federation dignitaries were dressed to the nines, the current Terran fashion being long sleeved jackets, closely tailored with high collars, in dark colours with bright buttons and embellishments. Jim himself was wearing a dark blue jacket and trousers with brass buttons and a sharp, white dress shirt. He hated it.

He tugged at his collar again, pausing to look around the room. His eyes scanned the crowd, a smile growing on his face, until it was stretched out into an almost gleeful grin as his eyes settled on a figure in the crowd. Standing across the room from them was a man, a good six years older than Jim, with dark brown hair, just a little bit scruffy, but cleanly shaven. Jim chuckled; he had actually shaved, you could tell it was an important event.

"Leonard! What a pleasure to see you here!" Pike said, shaking the man's hand vigorously.

The man smiled lopsidedly, "Admiral, great to see you again."

He kissed Winona on the cheek with an affectionate smile, before walking over to Jim, who was grinning again, broadly. He clasped the man on the shoulder.

"Bones! God, I'm so glad you're here!"

Bones laughed, "Likewise, kid, I hate these things."

"Why are you here?" he said as they walked over to the bar.

"Free booze and plenty of women?" he offered. Jim smirked and shook his head, leaning over the bar. "Nah, since Jocelyn left me I've needed to find a new occupation, things like this give me a great opportunity to meet people. I'm still considered a respected doctor in some circles, and if I'm good, I may get a new life out of this farce."

Jim chuckled, flashing a smile at the bartender and beckoning her over. He ordered two Saurian Brandies and passed one to Bones.

The affair wasn't exactly to Jim's tastes but the music was jovial and the place was bright and full of life. Jim felt a warm satisfaction settle over him, although that may have had more to do with the alcohol and the company than the setting.

The doctor was snorting into his second brandy over a story of one of Jim's most recent conquests, and the chaos that ensued once he discovered that she was married to a Hekaren Mafia boss, when the music stopped suddenly, the room falling all but silent, a gentle whisper of voices carrying through the air. Sure enough, standing in the entranceway of the Headquarters was a small group of tall, slender people in long, ornate robes.

"I'll be." Bones breathed.

The Vulcans were nothing like Jim had ever seen before. Living in San Francisco meant that he had come across a fair few aliens in his time. Feisty Orion women were some of his favourites, green skin and dark eyes and the way they moved their bodies...

Jim shook the thoughts from his head. This was not the time for things like that.

Vulcans weren't anything like the Orions, yet they were equally as entrancing, albeit for entirely different reasons. They were all taller than Jim, and elegant in their stature. Their skin was pale and tinged green, it would have look pallid and sickly on a human, but on a Vulcan it just seemed to glow. The contrast of their skin and their dark, glossy hair, cut at severe angles, gave them an unapproachable aura. Their slanted eyebrows and pointed ears just adding to their sharp, ethereal look.

"Wow." Jim muttered under his breath.

Bones nudged his elbow and pointed towards another figure, her dark skin a welcome, warm change from the Vulcans', walking over to the group. Her dress was fitted closely, hugging her slender curves. It was a deep claret colour, the neckline was asymmetrically cut and there was a long, suggestive slit down one side of the skirt that revealed a sliver of the most incredible leg. Her hair was bundled up on top of her head in a high ponytail, held together with a set of gold rings. She was almost as exquisite as the Vulcans themselves.

She lowered her head in greeting, and they lowered theirs in return. Jim couldn't hear what they were saying but even if he had been able to, he could never have discerned what they were thinking, their faces blank and cold, completely void of any emotion.

The music started up again as the woman moved around the room, introducing the Vulcans to various guests. Jim's eyes followed them as they went. There was something entrancing about them. Their entire demeanour was so different to everything Jim knew. Jim was full of passion. Everything he did relied on his gut and his charm. Vulcans were more alien than any alien he had ever encountered. They were untouchable, cold angels drifting through the room. Sublime deities.

The woman stopped in front of them, her earrings jingling lightly as she turned to introduce the Vulcans who were stood behind her.

"Admiral Pike, this is Stonn, T'Pring and the Ambassador's son S'chn T'gai Spock." Uhura said, gesturing lastly to the Vulcan on the left, closest to Jim.

T'Pring was a slight woman, not as tall as her companions but twice as haughty for it. She had an air of superiority about her that made Jim bristle. Her hair was plaited and twisted on top of her head, the length of it cascading down the right side of her face. She was a striking figure, and stunningly beautiful even by Human standards, but there was something cold and detached about her that made even the bravest of men in the room too wary to approach her.

Stonn's face was softer than either Spock's or T'Pring's, his features indiscernibly gentler, but he held himself in a manner that disregarded this. His gaze was steely and his tone curt, he wasn't as cold in his manner as T'Pring, but he had a stony composure that, once again, put off even the most determined socialites.

Spock was equally as composed, his face as blank as the others', his cupids-bow lips set in a solemn line. Yet there was something in his melanic eyes, and Jim couldn't quite put his finger on it. That something glinted at him, almost hidden amongst his stereotypically Vulcan features, and Jim found his mouth quirking just a little as he returned the bow in greeting.

"Thank you, Nyota." Spock said to the woman, before turning to Pike. "I apologise for the absence of my father. He was unable to attend this evening, but sends his greetings."

" _Dif-tor heh smusma._ " Pike replied, and Spock bowed his head again in acknowledgement.

"This is my wife Winona, Doctor McCoy, a family friend, and this is James Kirk."

Stonn's facial expression changed imperceptibly at the name. It was about as surprised an expression as the Vulcan could manage. "Kirk?"

Jim stiffened a little. "Yeah, exactly what you're thinking, but Jim'll do just fine."

T'Pring tilted her head so that she was looking down her nose at Kirk. "Jim." The word was spoken with so much disdain, it was as though it tasted foul in her mouth.

Kirk bristled again. There was something about T'Pring that really rubbed him up the wrong way. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was something about her haughty air of self-importance that was just a little bit more Vulcan than her companions. He laughed inwardly, if there was one thing Jim Kirk didn't need, it was for anyone to be more Vulcan.

The trio turned to Uhura, who had been talking quietly with McCoy, and said something soberly in Vulcan. She smiled and nodded.

"If you'll excuse us, we have to make our rounds." Uhura said, her eyes flitting to McCoy briefly, a small smile playing over her lips.

With that, the group left, making their way towards another gaggle of dignitaries.

"Yeah, pleased to meet you too." Jim muttered under his breath.

Spock's sternly angled eyebrows twitched a little, and if Jim hadn't known any better he would have said that the Vulcan had heard him.

Bones dug his elbow into Jim's ribs, whispering out of the side of his mouth, "Jim, the last thing we need is for you to start anything with the Vulcans. We all know what happened with the Andorian ambassador in June."

Jim laughed. That had been a night to remember. He had almost caused an all-out war by hitting on one of the androgynes, mixing up genders and making some fairly obtuse and raunchy comments after a few too many Cardassian Sunrises.

Jim danced a lot that evening. There were several very pretty Terrans, a blonde bombshell of an Ardanan, a beautiful, dark skinned Haliian and an entrancing Denobulan male in amongst them. He was particularly taken by the Risian he stumbled across at the bar. He had dark hair and bright, intelligent eyes, and a laugh that made Jim's stomach turn molten with want. Any other night and he'd have left with him. Unfortunately, it wasn't any other night. He was being observed.

So Jim pressed a kiss to the Risian's cheek, whispering a promise of a future meeting in his ear, and made his way over to Bones, who was standing at the edge of the room.

"Have you asked her yet?" Jim said jovially.

Bones started. "Asked who what?"

"Tall, dark and gorgeous over there. You know, the one talking to the pointy eared assholes." Jim replied, leaning in and nudging McCoy as he said it.

Bones snorted and took a swig of whisky. "Yeah, like she'd want to dance with me. I'm old enough to be her dad!"

Jim rolled his eyes, "Yeah, grandpa, that's why she keeps looking over here." McCoy shot him a look and he threw up his hands defensively. "Hey, it sure 'ain't for me, I've only just got here."

Uhura and the Vulcan, Spock, were walking in each other's company, meandering through the crowd. Spock was wearing his customary disinterested expression, while Uhura talked animated about something.

Jim nudged his companion. "Look, Bones, they're coming this way. If you miss this chance, you'll regret it and you know it!"

The doctor looked over at her unsubtly, downed the remainder of his whisky, handing the glass to Jim, and walked over to her. The Vulcan seemed displeased at his approach but Uhura's face lit up. She tried, unsuccessfully, to calm her burgeoning smile.

"May I have this dance, Miss Uhura?" McCoy said, his southern drawl fueled with Dutch courage, and the considerable bought of nerves he was suffering from.

The young woman smiled brightly. "You may, Doctor." she said as he took her hand in his. Her voice was rich and silky, and Jim had to admit, she was incredibly beautiful, in a slightly terrifying way. She looked as though she would be delicate and refined, but the more Jim saw of her, the more convinced he was that she was the kind of woman who could very definitely look after herself. Bones grinned back at Jim as he lead her onto the dance floor.

Jim chuckled as he watched them go. It was good to see him taking the initiative for once, and if he was right about Uhura, she could be exactly what Leonard needed.

The music was loud and bright and lively, and Jim found his feet tapping as he stood by the side of the room, nursing his own whisky. He was approached by a few other dancers, but he declined them all. As catchy as the music was, his feet were sore, and his stupid boots weren't helping. He couldn't help noticing that none of the Vulcans seemed even slightly inclined to dance. In fact, no one even approached them to ask. Spock's eyes followed Uhura and McCoy for a while, his brow twitching with displeasure. They then scanned the room for the other Vulcans, finding them both deep in conversation at the opposite side of the room. Then his eyes found Jim. They looked him up and down for a moment, dark meeting brilliant blue, just for a second before flickering back to the dancefloor.

The music wound down and a giddy Uhura made her way back to Spock, and McCoy wandered over to the bar.

"Don't you dance, Spock?" Jim heard her say, breathlessly.

Now that was a thought! He couldn't imagine the Vulcan dancing. He almost giggled at the image of the Vulcan standing stiffly while a buxom Orion woman grinded in front of him.

"I do not." he replied, eyeing her critically.

Her mood soon sobered under the Vulcan's glare. "There are some very beautiful women here tonight, aren't you at all interested?"

He cocked his head just a fraction to the side. "Does the fact that they're women have some extra significance?"

Uhura's eyes widened a little at this, "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you felt that way. There are some attractive men here as well."

He sighed, "You misunderstand me, Nyota. It is not that I find the males of a species any more appealing than the females, or vice versa, I am merely disinterested in general with this apparent need to find oneself a suitable mate. That is not how Vulcans go about such things."

Uhura almost giggled. "Oh Spock, I didn't mean you have to find your life partner here! It's just a dance. A bit of light-hearted fun!"

"So you do not see yourself with this Doctor McCoy you have been dancing with?"

Uhura blushed profusely at this, "What would give you that idea?"

"Given the lax way in which Terrans display their emotions, you appear to have a preference to this man above others you have danced with." he said, arching a brow.

Uhura shrugged with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "I guess. He's charming, good looking, and he treats me like a person, not a piece of meat or a notch on his bedpost. He's an older man. More distinguished."

Spock said nothing to this.

"What about you? Nobody catching your eye at all? I know that you aren't exactly on the hunt for a life partner, but Leonard's friend Kirk is attractive," Jim smiled, despite himself. "In an arrogant sort of way." The smile fell from Jim's face and his brow puckered into a frown.

Spock twitched, as though trying not to look in Jim's direction. "He is tolerable."

It was Uhura's turn to arch a slender brow. "Tolerable?" She said, a note of surprise in her voice. "Just tolerable? Not handsome enough even to ask for a dance?"

"Indeed." Spock said, curtly.

She glanced over at Kirk for a moment. "He's definitely attractive by Human standards, although not exactly my type."

Spock once again declined looking over in Jim's general direction. "I do not find him to be distracting in the way that several young men and women have found him to be this evening. I also do not make a habit of associating myself with promiscuous individuals."

Jim could have gaped. Uhura looked shocked, amusement clear on her features. She hid a smile with a delicate hand and excused herself, leaving the Vulcan, once again, to his own company.

* * *

They were sat quietly in the car on the way back from the ball when Pike clapped his hands together suddenly. Jim jerked awake from the half-slumber he had been in, his forehead resting on the cool glass of the car window. He was regretting that last bourbon. "So, Jim, your first meeting with Vulcans. What did you think?"

"They're stuck up, anally retentive assholes." Jim said lazily.

Pike's eyebrows shot up. "That's a bit drastic don't you think, Jim?"

Jim laughed and told them about the conversation he had overheard between Spock and Uhura.

"Well," Winona said turning to her son. "I don't think you've lost much there, Jim. He's a Vulcan as well, which would have driven you up the wall! I had the opportunity to work with a few when I was in the fleet. I've found that they think far too highly of themselves, as a race and as individuals. Very highly strung. That Spock is the Ambassador's son as well, I bet he's used to being treated like royalty on Earth. Your company would have come as shock." She paused, and shook her head. "He just stood there, looking down on everyone with this holier-than-thou attitude, as if he were better than everyone else in the room! I always though Vulcans were polite, overly so, but polite all the same. He, on the other hand, was just plain rude. Textbook rude!"

Pike pursed his lips, but Winona gave her husband a pointed look and he said nothing.

"Not handsome enough to dance with!" she scoffed, "Calling Jim tolerable! If it weren't for their goddamn diplomatic necessity..."


	2. Chapter 2

Jim was bored. He was bored a lot. When he had lived in Iowa he would have gone for a walk, or a run, just losing himself, jumping fences from dusty field to dusty field until the light faded and the stars, in their infinite beauty, began to wink and glisten into existence in the night sky.

In the Pikes' house, just outside of San Francisco, there were no fields. He couldn't get lost and he was never on his own. It was never truly dark either, the light polluting the sky until only the moon's light made it through the haze.

The early Summer fog was thick and white, rolling through the city and dampening the noise. The hush was strangely satisfying, dulling the street clamour to a lull of indeterminate static. Above it all the sun was shining, but that just gave the streets strangely ethereal glow as Jim made his way to Bones' flat.

He pressed the buzzer once, then twice, then in a little rhythm that he knew would get on McCoy's nerves before a gruff voice crackled through the speaker.

"Hey, it's me, fancy letting me in?" he said into the intercom.

The intercom buzzed back shrilly again and the door opened. He took the stairs, because elevators take too long, and besides, you meet people on the stairs. The stairs are fun, or at least they were until he reached the thirtieth floor and even Jim's extraordinary stamina was flagging. He arrived at McCoy's flat flushed and just a shade too warm.

"Jesus, kid, did you walk up here?" the doctor said as he looked at the man in front of him.

Jim nodded, leaning on the doorframe for support. Bones snorted and beckoned him in.

* * *

"She's flawless you know?" the doctor mused over his mug of coffee. "I haven't managed to find a thing about her I don't like. She's a real woman, but she isn't defined by the fact that she's a woman, you know? She's only a year older than you, Jim, and she is already working for the Federation as a diplomatic translator and interpreter. It's why she was with the Vulcans last night. She speaks eighty three percent of all Federation languages, and that isn't even counting all of the dialects she knows either." He paused, frowning into his coffee. "She and that Spock are really close though, she says that they balance each other out or something. I kind of see what she means though, they're completely the opposite of each other. She is so warm and friendly and full of life while he is ... well, Vulcan ... but they have compatible minds, whatever that means." he frowned a little deeper before shaking it off and laughing, rubbing a hand down his face, "I feel like such a dolt when I talk to her, she is just another level of intelligent, you know? God, Jim, I've never met anyone like her."

Jim smirked and raised a brow. Bones felt himself flushing. "So, are you seeing her again?"

"I don't know, I gave her my number and she said she'd call me, so maybe?" he replied, bringing the mug closer as he said it, nursing the warmth of it between his hands.

Jim chuckled, "God, Bones, you're waiting on a call? What are you, a thirteen year old girl?"

The doctor scowled and swatted at him, "Shut up! I don't even know if I'm ready for this. And God knows that Joanna will think of it …"

Kirk smiled and clapped his friend on the back. "Bones, I'm sure Jo will just be glad you've found somebody who makes you happy!"

Bones said nothing, but smiled wryly into his coffee cup.

oOo

The grace period between school and college was the worst. It was filled with entrance exams and little else for most. Unfortunately for Jim, he wasn't in the majority. Summer meant on top of that there were social events, more balls and dinners, and more invites for the Pike family, Jim included. Stuffy function after stuffy function, filled with Starfleet delegates that Winona insisted that Jim needed to meet. He invited Bones to as many as he could afford to, but while the Vulcan's were on planet, Leonard's attention drifted to their human companion more often than it stayed fixed on keeping Jim company. Not that Jim minded, it was something special to see a smile, as guarded as it was, grace his friend's face on so regular a basis.

Uhura really _was_ something else. She was studying at the Academy, specialising in xenolinguistics and was on track for becoming a truly exceptional communications officer. She was already working for the Federation, and they had offered her a steady job as part of the Vulcan ambassador's entourage, but she wasn't entirely sure if she was willing to give up on the thrill of exploration quite yet. She was sure of herself though, fiercely independent, incredibly strong willed, and had most of the company enraptured, Jim included. However, she didn't seem susceptible to anyone's charms, least of all Jim's, who she seemed to think of more as a puppy than a suitor. Not that Jim would have ever tried, not with Bones looking at her the way he did, and not knowing that despite the fact that Uhura kept her cards close to her chest, remaining professional with everyone, she made a subtle exception for a certain grouchy doctor. Jim could see the way her eyes flickered over to them across tables, and the way she lingered just that little bit closer to Leonard than was strictly necessary when it was time for her and the Vulcans to take their leave. Jim also saw the way that the Vulcans regarded their interaction with reproachful eyes and pursed lips. If he hadn't already decided that their egoistic, condescending attitudes were enough to make him retch, this would have decided it.

Thankfully, Jim found himself with more than valid excuses to avoid awkward encounters with Vulcans and state dinners as the summer exams drew nearer. The Academy entrance exams were notoriously brutal, but Jim was determined to get in this year. Being in the Academy meant escaping from the bureaucracy and the limelight. He could be his own person without worrying about his parents, or the media. He was untying the apron strings that had been choking him since the day he'd been born.

Most planets only accepted a small number of candidates every year, but Earth was an exception. There were hundreds of applicants, dozens of which would get through to the Academy. There were galaxy wide standardised tests, each assessing different areas of the applicants' skills. From cultural encounters to IQ tests, they were extensive and unremitting. Most candidates spent their entire summers locked away, poring through textbooks, test papers and practice simulations. Jim, however, couldn't sit still for too long, there were too many other things to do, people to see, experiences to have. On days like this Jim liked to get out of the city, hiking up to Muir Woods. Under the ancient canopy of towering redwoods he found his problems shrinking, falling into insignificance standing next to trees that survived natural disasters, and wars, and a whole manner of other things. What were men and their problems next to rocks, and mountains, and great redwoods?

The paths were dusty underfoot and despite the shade of the canopy above, the air was musty and warm. Jim felt the sweat trickle down his back as he ambled through the woods, gluing his shirt to him. There was a light breeze that ruffled the ferns around his feet, but all it did was stick the fabric more firmly to his damp skin. He paused for a moment. Amongst the rustle of the trees and gentle sound of birdsong, Jim could hear a brook. He grinned to himself. This weather wasn't perhaps the best for hiking, but it was perfect for a swim. When he reached the footbridge he kicked off his shoes and tumbled down the bank. The water was cool and clear, and burbled as it ran past his thighs. He scooped a handful up and splashed his face. The relief was instant and incredible, a rush of cold over feverish skin and Jim wanted more. He lifted his arms and let himself fall backwards into the water, laughing. For a moment his ears were filled the sound of the rushing river, before he broke the surface again. The canopy above was green, the light filtering through the leaves in golden shafts. The Japanese had a word for it; _kimorebi._ The characters painting a picture, literally sun leaking between leaves. In that moment he couldn't think of a word he liked more.

"Kirk?"

Jim looked up, planting his feet on the riverbed and standing as he did. The water dripped down his face and his formerly white t-shirt clung to him, transparent and soaked. Above him stood Uhura, Spock and Stonn, dressed in hiking gear. Uhura raised a brow at Jim's dishevelled state, but Stonn's face remained all but placid, his lip curling a little before he turned away. Spock, on the other hand, wore an expression of strangled disgust, his dark eyes flitting over Jim's drenched body, but dropping to the floor the instance their eyes met.

"Hey! Fancy seeing you guys here." He paused and looked down at his sopping wet clothes. He laughed again and wrung the bottom of his shirt out a little. "I was warm, the water looked inviting. It's actually really nice, you sure you don't fancy joining me?"

Uhura bit back a laugh and shook her head. "I'll leave that to you. Don't you have exams to be preparing for?"

Jim shook the water from his arms and wiped a hand down his face, clambering back up onto the path, dripping the dirt dark as he did. "Yeah, but shutting myself away when the weather is like this would be a crime." He winked at Stonn, who soured at the gesture. "Actually, I was just on my way up the Sun Trail. It's my favourite view of the place. Everywhere you look is green, a nice change from dusty red, huh?"

"It would be incorrect to assume that Vulcan has no vegetation, however viewing this Terran wood from higher ground would not be disagreeable." Spock replied soberly.

"Well, if it isn't _disagreeable_ , we'd better set off while we still have the light!" Jim said sardonically, tying the laces of his running shoes.

Uhura looked from Jim to the Vulcans and back, before shrugging. "If you want, I was just going to take them up to the Ocean trail, but the Sun trail is just as nice, if a little further to walk."

Jim grinned at her and gestured flamboyantly to the path ahead. Uhura rolled her eyes and walked away, followed swiftly by the two Vulcans.

The path took them upwards through the wood, up dirt steps, reinforced with wooden planks, stone steps, over little bridges and through shallow streams. As the trees thinned, the path began to narrow until it was no longer possible to walk two abreast. Soon they were out of the foliage and blinking into the afternoon sun. Around them were rolling, green hills, and over the tops of the trees, San Francisco and the glistening water surrounding it.

Jim took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs. "Beautiful, isn't it." he said.

Uhura hummed in agreement.

Spock looked out over the landscape. "That is a sentimental way of seeing a functioning ecosystem."

"Sentimental?" Jim replied.

"On the contrary," Stonn said. "Admiration for one's natural surroundings is not uncommon among many civilisations, as perception of beauty is often closely linked to fertility. If the surroundings are fertile then they are useful. So it is not illogical to find fertility attractive."

Spock paused for a moment, mulling Stonn's comments over in his mind. "That is logical."

Jim gaped at the two of them. "Do you guys have to apply logic to everything? Can't you just appreciate what's around you for what it is?"

"I believe that is exactly what I was doing. Admiring the surroundings as a functioning ecosystem, rather than simply aesthetically pleasing. I can see how the aesthetics may please a Human, as there is some nostalgia attached, and Humans are a notoriously nostalgic people. However a Vulcan is less likely to appreciate it, due to the lack of green on our own planet. Plant life if scarcer on Vulcan, and we find its existence pleasing not for the way it looks, but the purpose it serves in regulating atmosphere content, as well as providing sustenance and their medicinal properties." Spock said matter-of-factly.

Stonn nodded. "You appear to be prone to romanticising the mundane."

Jim frowned. "Yeah, well, Humans are like that. We see the beauty in the ordinary things. Can't something functional also be beautiful? Just like things that serve no particular purpose can be beautiful as well. Don't you guys have art?" The Vulcans remained silent, looking at him calculatingly. "The stuff I find beautiful isn't beautiful because it serves a purpose, it's beautiful simply because it exists. The colour of the sky after the fog clears, the smell of the air before it rains, waking up a little early and being able to appreciate the quiet hours before your day starts. They may not mean much to you, they may not be _functional_ , but little things like that help to get Humans through the day."

A curious expression graced Uhura's face. "That was almost poetic. You surprise me, Kirk." Jim smiled gently as she continued. "I agree with you. The feeling of clean sheets, grass underneath bare feet, seeing the people you love smiling. It's the little things that make life worth living."

She closed her eyes briefly and took that moment to feel the sunlight on her skin and the wind in her hair before moving on. Stonn frowned a little before following suit.

Jim sighed and made to move after them when Spock began to speak. "I admit, I am envious."

"Sorry?"

Spock looked out over the landscape again thoughtfully. "To find pleasure in such commonplace things. I used to wonder why Humans felt the need to express emotions so freely, but I am beginning to see that you feel emotions so strongly and in such abundance that perhaps you have no other choice."

The Vulcan's face was as stoic as Jim expected, but there was something about his eyes. They were dark and deep, thoughtful and intelligent as every Vulcan's were, but there was just a hint of something else. A spark. Something that glittered briefly as their eyes met, but was gone just as quickly.

* * *

Leonard had some preliminary medical assessments to attend to in town and Jim knew how much he hated tests, so he insisted on going with him. He made the excuse that he had ordered some books and needed to pick them up himself. The good doctor wasn't stupid and saw right through it, but he was grateful of the kid's company.

It should have been strange, a guy in his late twenties hanging out with a teenager, but Jim was different. They had met in a bar when Jim was sixteen, armed with childish determination and a frankly terrible fake ID. Leonard's wife had just left him, taking his four year old daughter with him. He was newly qualified and hadn't even found his footing before Jocelyn had decided that nowhere on the planet was going to be far enough away and was filing for divorce. That wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been for the condition that he could only see Joanna when she deemed it was necessary, and that Earth was _her_ territory, not his, so he would have to go. Since drinking was what had got him in trouble in the first place, Leonard had decided, downing his fourth bourbon of the night, why not just keep going. The kid had sat next to him, took one glance at him and asked for whatever he was having. Jim was loud and brash at times, but underneath the bravado he was sensitive, he never asked too much, or too little. There was an understanding between the two, both having lost people, both having to live with it, albeit in different ways. Jim was under constant scrutiny by other people, be it socially or academically, Leonard was under constant scrutiny too, by his ex-wife, by his daughter, by the various medical boards that were concerned for his mental health, but mostly by himself. He had never forgiven himself for the death of his father, he had died because Leonard had allowed it. He should have kept fighting, then maybe he would have been able to get the help he needed. He was dead because of Len, and that was something he would never allow himself to forget. He had told this to Jim one alcohol fueled night, not long after the kid's seventeenth birthday. Jim had stared thoughtfully at him for a good few minutes, before grinning and squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. He told him that his dad would have been proud to see the man he had become. When McCoy had scoffed at him, the grin slid from the boy's face and was replaced by a look so sincere that the doctor had realised in that moment that Jim wasn't a child any more. He told him that he had become a certified doctor, had an incredible daughter, survived the breakdown of a relationship, and the worst he had done was become surly and fond of bourbon, and in his opinion, there were far worse turn-outs than that.

He glanced over at Jim, struggling with the armful of books that he had apparently not been lying about. He had grown up a lot in last few years, physically he had grown taller, broader and irritatingly handsome. But underneath that he had become a better friend than Len could have ever wished for. He would be eternally grateful for how understanding the Pikes were of their friendship, although that may have had something to do with the fact that Leonard had been intent on looking after the kid ever since the first night he turned up on the Pikes' doorstep with their drunk sixteen year old son draped unceremoniously on one arm.

The thing about Jim was, he was always in Leonard's corner. He helped to break his cycle of self loathing, and when he was around, he made the future seem brighter. The future was always bright for Jim Kirk, because the future would be Jim Kirk's making, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"God, Bones, can't you smell it! Isn't it incredible!" Jim said, pressing his nose to the books and taking a deep breath in.

Leonard raised a brow. "All I can smell is black mould and about a dozen things that'll set off your allergies."

Jim nudged him with his shoulder. "Aww come on Bones, these things are a part of history! You have no idea how cool it is being able to read 21st century books and papers. They were so close, and they had all these ideas…"

"I still don't understand why you need to go through all that stuff, isn't half of it ancient? Surely you don't need it for the Academy test?"

"These aren't for the Academy, these are just a present to myself. Believe it or not, Bones, I actually li-" his sentence was cut short as he collided with a passer-by, knocking Jim's books and papers out of his hands and scattering them over the floor.

Jim looked at his books in horror. "Jesus! What the fuck were you doing?!"

The man looked up. He was taller than Jim, older too, with thick, dark hair that brushed his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. He had severe, Vulcan eyebrows but sported a neatly cropped beard, it was as dark as his hair, and very unlike the customary clean-shaven Vulcan fashion.

"Oh great, another Vulcan." Jim muttered under his breath as he dropped to his knees to collect the fallen papers.

The Vulcan gave him a pointed look before bending down to join him and picking up the books from where they had fallen.

"You're aware that we have better hearing than you." he said. His voice was rich and, if Jim hadn't known any better, he would have said that it was laced with humour. "So maybe keep your smartass comments to yourself?"

His jaw went slack and he felt the colour rise on his cheeks. He swore inwardly and took the books from the Vulcan. "It _was_ your fault though. You should watch where you're going."

The man's eyebrow twitched, as though aching to arch in the way many Vulcans did. Instead he smiled. Kirk was taken aback. His smile was full and bright and completely genuine.

"It's true, my mind was elsewhere, but so, it would appear, was yours." He picked up the last book from off the floor and leafed through it absentmindedly, his eyes settling on a handwritten note on the first page. "Mister ... Kirk?"

Once again the curiosity in the Vulcan's voice caused Jim to stiffen. It didn't seem to matter who they were, the name Kirk was always an invitation to bring up his father.

"That name, if I am not mistaken, is of Anglo-Scandinavian roots. It means church, does it not?"

Jim frowned. The man in front of him had a wry smile and intelligent eyes, he didn't strike Jim as the type of person to ignorant of anything. Was he deliberately avoiding the conversation? If so, was that for Jim's benefit or his? He couldn't see how it could benefit the Vulcan, so that meant he was being … considerate? Jim felt oddly flustered at the thought. He found himself fumbling over his words. "Y...yeah … I guess…"

The Vulcan finally gave in to temptation and raised an amused brow. "You do not seem the church going type, Mister Kirk."

He had to laugh at that. "I'm really not. But looks can be deceiving."

"Indeed they can, however I do not believe that to be the case with you Mister Kirk." he replied, his dark eyes glinting with humour. "It is very strange for anybody these days to be carrying so many paper books. Particularly those that would survive having an identifying name scrawled onto their pages."

Jim wrestled the books back into a manageable armful and grinned. "I'm a strange guy, and like you said, what you see is what you get with me. I like books, so I own a few."

The Vulcan looked thoughtfully at the books for a second before his expression warmed, a satisfied smile settling on his face. "It's always pleasant to meet somebody who is so open about themselves. Nowadays it seems like everybody has something to hide."

"Not me. There's no use in hiding the dirty details. They're the best bits." Jim replied, adding a brazen wink. He could flirt with the best of them, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity to add Vulcans to that list get away from him.

Instead of being shocked or angered, the Vulcan's eyes flickered to Jim's mouth and back again almost imperceptibly. He smiled again, a subtle, flirtatious twist tugging at one corner. "I'm quite sure they are."

Jim's eyes widened. This was new. He shifted the armful of books again, stepping a little closer to the man. "Speaking of the dirty details, you know my name but I don't know yours."

"My name is Sybok."

"Sybok?" Jim repeated, a playful smile teasing his lips. "You _are_ Vulcan then?"

Sybok nodded, returning the smile wryly. "Did you expect me not to be?"

Jim smirked, "You aren't like any Vulcan _I've_ met before. So far they've all been stuffy, self-absorbed and so far up their own asses they're starting to see the light."

The Vulcan laughed. It was a surprising sound, deep, rich and burbling. Jim found himself colouring. Tall, dark and handsome, immune to Jim's usual tricks and with a laugh that made his insides turn to liquid. This was going to spell trouble.

"You are an intriguing man Mister Kirk, you seem to have little concern for the social formalities others place upon themselves."

A flush crept up Jim's neck. "Sorry, I know I can be a little crass."

"On the contrary, I find it refreshing. Far too often I find members of your species are far too cautious around Vulcans as though simply being Human would offend their Vulcan sensibilities. It is most pleasing to find a Human who thinks differently."

"Well then, it's great to find someone who understands. I can't stand stuffy, stuck-up dignitaries with their etiquette, and pomp and circumstance."

"Then we share more than a taste in books, Mister Kirk." he said, nodding to the book on the top of Jim's pile.

Jim balked, "You've read Haven's _Theoretical Descriptions of Entanglement Estimation_?"

"Indeed" Sybok replied. "I may not act like most Vulcans, but I still have that thirst to acquire knowledge that is so common in my species. Quantum Physics is a particular favourite of mine."

Frowning sceptically Kirk fished out the second of the large books in his pile. "How about Trapnell's essays on _Quantum Phenomena in Condensed Phase Systems_?"

The Vulcan smiled smugly. "That one as well. I particularly liked the chapter on reduced density matrix propagation."

Jim grinned. That was his favourite chapter.

The Vulcan glanced at his wristwatch and sighed dramatically. "I'm afraid I'm running a little late. I do hope that I'll be seeing you soon, Mister Kirk." He said as he turned away.

"Jim." Kirk called after him. "Call me Jim!"

Sybok smiled again, his eyes skimming the length of the Human unsubtly, and nodded once in acknowledgement.

"Oh God, Bones." Jim muttered as the Vulcan walked away, "I think I have a type"

McCoy frowned. "What the hell are you talking about, kid?"

"Nothing, it doesn't matter."

* * *

The day of the Hyperspace Physics exam, Jim slept in. His alarm shrilled at him at 7am, but he hit snooze and rolled over. It started up its incessant beeping again at at 7:30 and again at 8, but once again, Jim fumbled around for it, slamming it onto the table until it shut up, dozing off again in the warm morning light. His PADD chimed once. Then twice. Then again another four times before Jim groggily swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded over to answer the messages. They were all from Bones.

 **0804 Bones:** _You had better be up kid._

 **0807 Bones:** _Answer my damn messages so that I know you're not going to miss this exam._

 **0812 Bones:** _Jim, your exam is at 9, if you're still asleep I swear to god._

 **0815 Bones:** _Answer your bloody messages!_

 **0817 Bones:** _God damn it Jim!_

 **0820 Bones:** _Fine, it's your life, don't say I didn't try!_

Jim threw the PADD onto his bed, cursing. He gathered up the clothes he had strewn across his bedroom floor and pulled them on. He hopped back over to his PADD, one leg in his trousers, the other flailing helplessly as he tried, and failed, to multi task. It was 8:38, he had twenty minutes to get to the Academy in San Francisco traffic.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

He yanked on a pair of boots and ran outside, swinging a leg over his bike and praying that she'd start first time. Today was not his day. The bike whined as he kicked it into ignition. He tried again. She whined back again.

"C'mon, c'mon, _c'mon!_ " he pleaded, putting all his weight into the next kick. With a jolt the bike whirred into life, lifting up off the ground. The dust he kicked up billowed behind him in hazy, translucent clouds as he sped out of the driveway and onto the road. The traffic was as heavy as he'd expected as he weaved his way through it, speeding past irritated commuters, glaring over their steering wheels as he cut across. He took a left, then another. He stopped at a set of traffic lights.

 _8:42_

He felt his hands begin to sweat as he gripped the handlebars of his bike, itching to tear away as soon as the lights changed.

 _8:44_

Red. Still red. Green! He sped up as he turned the corner. Right, then left, then right again. Stopping, starting, dancing through the cars, thrumming as they sat in lines, growling impatiently. He gathered momentum as he sped downhill, passing under footbridges and past high rises, glistening in the late morning light. The traffic in front of him began to slow, so he took a left. He was met with more traffic, so he took a right, down a small side street that cut across to Presidio Avenue.

 _8:52_

He could see the Academy campus ahead of him, the green of the park and the trees lining the road, reaching up to shade the buildings below. He was going to make it.

 _8:54_

The traffic was stagnating again. He had to be there! He had to get in this year. There was no way he could get through another year of being George Kirk's son. Of being a Tarsus survivor. Of being just another dignitary brat. He was so close. The road ahead cleared as he entered the shade of the canopy. He could practically taste the freedom as he felt the bike falter, slipping from underneath him. There was a screech of metal against asphalt and everything went black.

oOo

"Mister Kirk." Came a voice from above him. "Mister Kirk, if you are conscious, please respond."

Jim groaned, cracking an eye open. He winced at the light, and the pain that came with it. His head was throbbing, a burning sensation searing behind his eyes with every pulse. He groaned again and attempted to sit up. A firm hand on his chest stopped him.

"Mister Kirk, you were involved in a traffic collision. You do not appear to be seriously injured, but it would be safer if you remained still until a medical official is present to confirm it."

Jim slumped back down. He tried to speak but the words were like treacle in his mouth. "Shit … what with? What di' I colli' … collide with?"

There was a pause. "A tree."

If he hadn't been in so much pain he would have laughed. A tree. Today really wasn't his day. He opened his eyes again. The sky was pastel blue between the trees, smudged with passing clouds, shifting and fading in the wind, and there was a figure kneeling down next to him. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. They had dark hair and sharp features, furrowed with concern, or was that irritation… Jim didn't know, but he did know that he didn't have time to be lying around on the pavement.

"Mm've got 'n exam." The words slurred out as he tried to sit up again. The hand on his chest returned, but Jim wasn't going to give up so easily a second time. The hand held steady.

"Ge'rof, 've got 'n important exam." Jim shoved the arm from his chest and sat forward. The world began to swim again as he felt someone grip his shoulder, then everything faded to black again.

* * *

He woke groggily, light streaming onto his face, bright and warm. Screwing up his eyes he blocked out as much of the light as possible, periodically opening his eyelids just a sliver, just enough to get used to the glare. He opened them a fraction more, then a little more again, letting his eyes adjust bit by bit. Everything was a little blurry, but the more he blinked the clearer things became. He was in a bed. Not a hospital bed, and definitely not his own bed. It was queen sized, adorned with cotton sheets, spotlessly white and soft to the touch. The room was large, filled with warm colours and expensive furnishings. In the corner was what appeared to be some sort of shrine. Next to him was a bedside table, a glass of water and a folded piece of paper with his name scrawled across it. He reached over taking the glass of water first, sipping it tentatively before swallowing it in gulps. He hadn't realised how thirsty he had been. He replaced the glass and picked up the letter.

 _Mr. Kirk,_

 _After the incident involving your motorcycle outside the Academy, you were taken to the Vulcan Embassy, as it contained the nearest medical facilities in the vicinity of the accident. However, it would appear that you suffered nothing more than a minor concussion, a sprained wrist, and grazing on the left-hand side of your body. The doctor prescribed bed rest, and since your guardians could not be contacted, you were taken to my quarters._

 _I regret that due to your distress I was forced to incapacitate you, however it should not leave lasting effects any worse than that of the collision you were involved in first._

 _I took the liberty of informing the Academy of the incident, and rescheduling your exam for the following Monday._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _S'chn T'gai Spock_

Jim turned the paper over in his hands, reading it through again before putting it back on the table. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood up. He swayed a little, wincing at the pain down his side. They had repaired the skin, but it was fresh and raw and itched like hell. It dawned on him that he was in nothing but his underwear. The thought of the Vulcans seeing him naked was enough to make him cringe. There were fresh clothes folded in a pile on a chair opposite the shrine. They looked like the clothes he had left the house in, but clean with no visible damage from the accident. His eyes were drawn to the statue standing in the shrine. Jim ran his fingers over it, the curves of dark, polished wood carved into some sort of winged bear and set with a large, glowing stone. He had always thought that religions were illogical, even by Human standards, but there had to be some reason that a Vulcan would have a shrine in their room.

Once he was dressed he made his way downstairs. The house was large and light, and as he padded down the stairs he saw that there were cubby holes, cut into the walls, filled with more statues, smaller but equally as intricate as the one in the shrine in his room. He wandered through the entrance hall, a vast empty space, polished and as spotless as the rest of the house. It was almost as though no one lived here at all. The front door was tall and white, and Jim wondered absent-mindedly if he could leave without anyone noticing, but he shook the thoughts from his head and continued through the house. If this guy had taken him in, the least he could do was say thanks. There were several doors, each as white as the front door, if not as tall. Jim's curiosity was getting the best of him as he approached the one nearest to him. He knocked gently before attempting to open the door. It stayed firmly shut. He shrugged and moved to the next one. This one, like the first, stayed closed, despite Jim's best efforts. The next one, however, opened with a clean swish to reveal a bright room, filled from floor to ceiling with books, paper and electronic. Jim smiled as he ran his hands over the spines. Among the Vulcan texts there appeared to be Earth classics; Poe, Dickens, Atwood, Hugo, Murakami, Woolf, Kafka.

He traced the embossed letters of a collection of Shakespeare. "Huh, I never had him pegged as a bookworm."

"The collection, while impressive, does not belong to me."

Jim started, spinning around to see Spock standing in the doorway.

"Shit, sorry! I didn't mean to intrude, or whatever. I was just curious. I kind of love books."

"It is of no consequence. The house, like the books, is not mine. I merely stay here while on Earth. You are welcome to explore the house if you wish, however most of the rooms are unoccupied, as this house is intended to cater for larger groups of people." The Vulcan replied.

"Right." Jim said, shifting uncomfortably. "Have you read any of them?"

"I have not. Though not out of disinterest, only lack of time."

Jim picked up a copy of _Norwegian Wood_ and passed it over in his hand. "I'm more into non-fiction if I'm honest, but you've got some good stuff here. Murakami is a little depressing, but great if you want to ponder the meaning of life. Poe is dark and a bit cringey at times, but in a good way. Atwood is kind of weird, but it's interesting to see her view of the world. Not that inaccurate as it happens."

Spock glanced up at the bookshelves. "I shall bear that in mind."

"Anyway … thanks for … well, everything. I'm feeling much better, so I might just go home now. My Mum'll be tearing her hair out."

Spock's eyebrow twitched. "I contacted your guardians at 0800 hours this morning. They are aware of your situation. And even if they were not, I doubt that your mother would engage in such an action. It would likely be unnecessarily painful. You should still be in bed. The doctor-"

Jim held up a hand. "The doctors don't always know what's best for me. Honestly, I'll be fine. And the hair pulling was just an expression."

The Vulcan paused, but nodded slowly. "I see."

There was a silence that stretched out between them, the Vulcan appearing to look everywhere but at Jim.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Jim began. "Because I'm really not, but why were you there? When I got into the accident, I mean."

Spock turned towards the nearest bookshelf selecting a book and thumbing through it distractedly. "I was on my way into the city when I saw your collision. I was not aware that it was you until I left my own vehicle."

 _Yeah, otherwise you probably wouldn't have stopped at all._ said a little voice in Jim's head.

"Well, thanks anyway. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't turned up. I'd probably be bleeding out on the road with no chance of ever getting into Starfleet." He laughed self-consciously.

The Vulcan looked up from the book. "You would still have been eligible to reapply for next year."

"Yeah, but I need to get in this year, I couldn't stand spending another year stuck where I am."

"You are unhappy in your current position?" Spock said, raising a quizzical brow.

Jim laughed again, bitterly this time. "You wouldn't understand."

The Vulcan pursed his lips, replacing the book on the shelf.

"Perhaps not." The reply was soft, almost as though he were talking to himself rather than Jim. An uncomfortable silence fell once again.

"So, I think I'll be going. Thanks for everything. Again."

Spock nodded. "If you wish. I shall call you a car."

"I don't need a car, I can just walk, it really isn't that far." Jim said, heading out of the room.

The Vulcan's brow furrowed fractionally. "I would prefer it if you did not. The doctors specified that you should not be out of bed for the next fourty eight hours, let alone walking five miles in the afternoon sun."

Jim almost protested, but the twinge in his side was enough to convince him.

The car arrived fifteen minutes later, and Jim was glad of it. As soon as he stepped out of the house it was like he could breathe again. There was something stifling about the place, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He didn't look back.


	3. Chapter 3

His mother had clipped him round the ear when he got home, but only after she had scooped him into her embrace and held him tight to her chest.

"Idiot! If you weren't an adult I'd take that god damned bike off you! How could you have been so stupid?"

"Like you said, I'm not a kid, people get into accidents all the time. If you didn't want me to get hurt you might as well have wrapped me in bubble wrap and never let me leave the house."

His mother harrumphed, and muttered something under her breath about trees and Vulcans.

"Hey, that tree came out of nowhere! And I probably could have walked it off if that pointy eared prat hadn't knocked me out again."

Winona raised an incredulous brow. "Sure Jim, and while you were walking it off I'd have got accepted into the VSA." Jim didn't dignify that with a reply, only frowning. Winona sighed and shook her head. "Maybe I was wrong about them," She said thoughtfully. "They may be stuck up, but they saved your life, Jim. We have to invite them for dinner, do something to thank them."

Jim rubbed a hand over the new skin on his arm distractedly. "Sure, just let me know when you're organising it and I'll make sure I can't make it."

"Don't be so proud, Jim! They snubbed you once, surely saving your life makes up for that?"

He rolled an apple out of the fruit bowl distractedly. "He didn't save my life, he just gave me a place to stay after I got into an accident. I wasn't even that injured. Even if I was, it'd have been the doctors who saved my life, not Spock."

His mother raised a brow. "On a first name basis now are we?"

Jim took a bite of the apple forcefully. "Only because I can't pronounce his other damn name!"

"Uhuh. Well either way, I want to do something to thank him."

"Can we at least invite Bones?"

"Oh come on, Jim, you wound me! I'd never pass up an opportunity to see Leonard flap over that nice Uhura woman."

Jim raised a brow. "Please don't tell me you've got some ridiculous match-making scheme up your sleeve?"

Winona said nothing, but grinned at her son impishly. Jim honestly wondered how a woman as devious as his mother wasn't already running the Federation.

* * *

Much to Jim's surprise, and displeasure, the Vulcans accepted the invitation straight away, and he barely had time to think of a valid excuse by the time the dinner came around. Once again Jim found himself dressed to the nines, and incredibly unhappy about it. The doorbell chimed twice as he was attempting to tie a Windsor knot. Grumbling, he made his way to the door, and opened it to find McCoy stood outside, mirroring his exasperation.

"Bones, you're early."

The doctor raised a brow. "Yeah, good thing too with the state you're in. Has your mother seen you yet?"

"No. She'll be lucky if she sees me at all this evening."

"Jesus kid, come here." He said, stepping into the house and swatting Jim's hands away from the disaster that was his tie. Leonard's deft hands made short work of the knot, but he fiddled with it for a little longer anyway.

"I think you've got it Bones." Jim said softly.

The doctor coughed and withdrew his hands. "Sorry, I guess I'm just a bit nervous. I haven't seen Nyota with the Vulcans around since the first time we met. I just know I'm going to screw up in front of them and she's going to think I'm such a klutz."

Jim smiled warmly and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Bones, she's already head over heels for you, I don't think she could think badly of you if she tried."

Leonard smiled wryly, colour rising on his cheeks. "Yeah, whatever."

The doorbell went again and Jim sighed. "Go on into the dining room, my Chris'll get you a drink."

Stood directly outside was Spock, the faintest look of surprise on his face. He was dressed less formally than he had done at the ball, and in the Terran fashion rather than the Vulcan. The lines of his suit were sharp, and tapered in along the length of his slim figure. In the dusky light of the evening, only illuminated by the flood of light from the back rooms, the Vulcan's eyes looked even darker, more animalistic almost, but there was a healthy flush to his skin, darkening the arch of his cheekbone.

"Are you going to let us in or do we have to stand out here all evening?" Uhura said with a grin.

Jim's gaze fell to the woman next to Spock, she was also dressed in a muted dress, simple, but with a flattering peplum flare at the waist. He felt his face begin to heat up. "Sorry, yeah, come in. The dining room is through there and to the right. If you'd like anything to drink don't be afraid to ask. Chris and Len are through there already."

At the sound of Bones' name, Nyota's smile softened, and the four of them made their way through into the back. The dining room wasn't anything spectacular, hardly as grand as the one he had wandered through the Vulcan Ambassador's house. The walls were painted an airy cream colour, with the furthest one sporting an impressive set of wall to ceiling bay windows, framed with sage green French-styled curtains. Even the furniture was simple, but elegant; pine dining chairs and an a long, matching table, saber legs gently bowed, embroidered cushions a splash of colour to match the curtains.

T'Pring turned her head to Stonn and mouthed what looked like the word "quaint". Jim bristled but said nothing, heading over to Bones.

"Pour me one of those will you." He said. "It's going to be a long evening."

* * *

Conversation was polite, but stifling. The niceties passing between his parents and the Vulcans was enough to make Jim gag. He was perfectly content to keep to himself, only answering, when directly questioned, with curt replies. He pushed the leafy vegetables around his plate absent-mindedly, deliberately avoiding eye contact with any of the guests, bar Uhura, although her attention was fixated elsewhere.

"Doctor McCoy," T'Pring began. "You are qualified to practise medicine are you not?"

"Yes, m'am, I am." Leonard replied.

T'Pring smiled coldly. "So why do you feel the need to apply to Starfleet. Is it purely companionship to Mister Kirk, or is there another reason?"

Jim looked up. Uhura and Spock's conversation had all but come to a halt as the rest of the diners turned to look at Bones. Jim swore internally. The icy look on T'Pring's face betrayed her less than innocent motives. She was fishing for something.

"I …" Leonard stammered. "I have people on Earth who would rather I weren't here, and will go to great lengths to see me gone. I thought I'd just save them the trouble."

"People, doctor?" The Vulcan replied, her air light and questioning, but her gaze intense.

Leonard's composure was slipping as he scratched the nape of his neck self-consciously. "Namely my ex-wife, and her family."

The smallest, polite smile graced T'Pring's features. "How unfortunate. Why such animosity?"

Jim looked at Bones. He had gone pale and a little clammy. His eyes flitted up towards Uhura, before returning to his lap. "Lord knows, we didn't exactly end on good terms." He replied shakily.

"Why not?"

Glancing at Nyota, Jim could see the displeasure creasing her face. He only hoped it was with the Vulcans and not the doctor. "Well… that's kind of a personal question."

"Oh. I see."

Jim was practically seething. "When did this become a game of twenty questions? And why are we only grilling Bones? We haven't heard much about you guys, and since you're our guests, don't you think we should be talking about you, rather than us?"

If the look his mother shot him was anything to go by, the venom in his voice was particularly apparent.

"Pray tell, Mister Kirk, what would you like to know?"

Jim smiled perniciously. "Since you have such an obviously distaste for Terran culture, why are you here?"

"Jim, dear, why our guests are here is of no consequence, we are just glad to have their company, are we not Christopher?" Winona said, jabbing her husband in the ribs as subtly as she could manage.

Before he could reply Spock turned to Jim, the barest hint of indignation on his brow. "You appear to have strong opinions regarding our culture, and if I am not mistaken, you have never set foot on our planet. If one would like to change one's opinion of a place or a culture, surely one would have to spend time amongst its people."

"Would one now? Does one think that I'd change my mind if I visited Vulcan?"

"I did not say _that_. I merely suggested that criticising our being here despite our apparently obvious disdain for the planet, could be deemed hypocritical as you hold our culture in equal disdain, and yet have done nothing to remedy it."

"Perhaps it isn't your culture that I don't like, maybe it's just you."

Spock raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"Perhaps."

"Jim, why don't you go and check on dessert." Said his mother, sternly.

Jim said nothing, glaring fixedly at Spock as he got up. The Vulcan's gaze followed him as he left the room, and if his mother's tone hadn't been enough warning he would have gladly shattered the delicate bowls of fruit as he removed them from the fridge. Instead he placed them gently onto a tray, laid them out on a side table before excusing himself for the night, citing that his injuries were still causing him pain, barely restraining the curl of his lip as he bid the Vulcans a good evening.

* * *

Jim scratched at the healing skin on his arm absentmindedly as he sat outside the Academy testing facility. Despite the setback the Hyperspace Physics exam had gone well, while the Dynamic Relationships test had proven to be particularly stressful, although he was fairly certain that more than a few candidates had failed to even complete the test, so that was something.

He had finished the IQ test a little earlier than he'd anticipated, but was waiting for Bones to come and meet him. They had an afternoon of beer, bourbon, and crap TV planned. It was going to be bliss.

McCoy's flat wasn't exactly luxury. In fact it was far less luxurious than Jim's own house, but it was away from his parents and that was what mattered. After that disastrous dinner, and all of the stress of his exams, he needed some space with people he actually wanted to spend time with.

Leonard was quiet for the entire walk home, and he barely spoke once they got there either. He and Jim were sat lounging on the sofa for a while, the television muted but flashing images of one sport or another, people in bright jerseys running around fields, stony looks of determination on their faces, before he spoke up.

"I've been invited to train with Doctor M'Benga on Vulcan."

Jim's brows shot up. "Oh, wow … when do you start?"

Bones wrung his hands a little. "Next week."

"Shit. Wow. Umm… congrats?" Jim took in McCoy's demeanour and paused. He was slouched, his hands clasped together and held close to his body, a dark look on his face. "You don't seem that happy about it."

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "It's great for my career, but it's on Vulcan."

"On Vulcan? But that'll mean you'll be closer to a certain linguist." Jim said with a licentious grin.

"That's got nothing to do with it, Jim." Leonard replied with about as much reproach as he could muster, which never was an awful lot when it came to Jim.

"Sure."

"Come on, kid, you can't think I'm that sappy."

Jim scratched the nape of his neck as he leaned back in his chair. "I dunno, Bones, you're a proper Southern Gent. You pretend to be all grisly and that, but you're all soft on the inside."

Leonard rolled his eyes and gave Jim's shoulder a shove. "You're an ass."

"So, are you going to take it?"

"Hmm?"

"The training."

McCoy frowned again. "I … I've just never been that far from Jo before..."

"Come on, Bones, Jocelyn isn't any more likely to let you see her just because you're planetside. You'll get experience, better prospects, you might even get a stable job for once. A stable job could mean a change in a certain custody agreement. And I can think of several other reasons you should. Most of them involve Miss Uhura."

Leonard snorted but a small smile was burgeoning on his face. "Yeah, kid, I know. I just don't know if I can deal with Vulcans, even in a professional capacity."

"You'll never know if you don't try."

Leonard nudged Jim's shoulder with his own. "You know, you're a lot wiser than you should be at your age."

Jim doffed an imaginary cap with a grin, and McCoy rolled his eyes. "Okay, I take it back. You're ridiculous."

* * *

"So Bones is being transferred to Vulcan."

His mother didn't look up from her paperwork. "I am aware."

She had barely spoken to him since the incident at dinner. He had no remorse for what he had said, but he did regret that it had caused his mother so much grief. She hadn't even lectured him, only given him a tired, disappointed look. "We'll be joining him once your exams are finished."

"What?!"

This time Winona did look up. "It's been a long time since I've been to Vulcan, and Christopher has some business there. You could use the break as well, you've worked hard for these exams, in your own way."

"I'm fine right here."

"You want to get into Starfleet, right?" Jim nodded. "Then you'll have to get used to going off planet every now and then. Vulcan is an interesting place, there's a lot more to it than you'd think. Not to mention there are certain misconceptions that I think need to be cleared up. If you want to get anywhere within the Federation, you need to have a healthy respect for other people and cultures."

Jim sighed. "Do I get a choice?"

"After the disgraceful display at dinner the other night, no."

Jim clenched his jaw, but didn't protest. "How long for?"

"A couple of months. You'll be back before term starts, don't you worry. You could go and visit the temples while we're there. For a race that relies so heavily on logic and reason, Vulcan religion is surprisingly ingrained into the culture."

She turned back to her paperwork silently, not waiting for a reply. Jim swallowed thickly, turning tail and leaving the house again. It seemed like he couldn't stay in the house for longer than a few minutes before it felt like he was suffocating again. With the bike out of commission there wasn't much to do but walk. He wandered through the suburbs and into the city.

Jim loved to walk by the Bay as the storms were rolling in. He loved to watch the clouds as they hung low, steeping the land in dense fog before drenching it with an ocean's worth of rain. He loved that people saw the storms coming and made their way inside as quickly as possible, leaving the sidewalks bare and open for Jim to wander down. He stopped by the railings, the Bridge framing the Bay as a crack of lightning lit up the sky out to sea. He didn't know much about Vulcan as a planet, but he was fairly certain they didn't have views like this. He was going to miss the water, the green and blue was never something he had appreciated enough, until he was faced with the possibility of not seeing it for months on end.

"We meet again, Mister Kirk." Came a familiar voice, dragging him from his train of thought. Stood beside him, his arms draped over the railings was Sybok.

"Sybok." Jim said, a smile blossoming onto his features. "It's been a while. How have you been?"

The Vulcan shrugged. "I'm far better for seeing you."

Jim snorted. "Has that line ever worked?"

Sybok laughed and gave Jim a wink. He chuckled and turned back towards the Bay, sighing.

"Is there something wrong?" Sybok asked, placing a hand on Jim's forearm.

"I'm going to be off planet for a while." he replied, glancing back over the Bay. "I'm going to miss this place."

"If you're taking Academy exams then you can't be gone for long."

Jim's eyes were distant, as though he were gazing out at something unseen out on the water. "Yeah, it's just, the last time I went off planet for longer than a week…"

"Jim?"

He could smell the blood mixed in with the dirt as though it were right here. The stench of rot and defecation ripe as the day he'd first smelled it. "The last time I spent any time off planet was when I went to Tarsus." Jim said quietly.

Sybok's grip on Jim's arm tightened. "Tarsus IV? I'm sorry. You must have a lot of painful memories."

"More than you could possibly imagine."

The two men were quiet for a while, watching the cloud tumble inland, blotting out the blue of the late afternoon sky. There was a low rumble as the stagnant air began to fill with the sound of water. Dripping here and there before coming down in torrents.

"Are you hungry?" Sybok said, lifting his jacket to shield them from the rain.

Jim breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of the rain, washing away the memories. He smiled up at the Vulcan. "Always, why?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Jim swallowed, his eyes flitting from Sybok's eyes to his mouth and back again. He laughed it off. "Only if we go Dutch."

The Vulcan's face melted into a warm smile and Jim found himself melting too.

They settled on a little Thai place downtown with an open kitchen and loud cooks. Jim loved the bursts of flame, the smell of the spices and the hurried chatter that came with busy little restaurants. Everyone was coming and going and it was great for people-watching. He had always loved people-watching, something about turning the tables appealed to him. From his vantage point no one paid him any attention, for once, no one cared who he was.

"So tell me more about yourself, Jim." Sybok said as he lifted the noodles from their soup.

Jim scoffed, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth. "There's not much to tell that the tabloids haven't already bared for the galaxy to see."

Sybok ate in a delicate, Vulcan way, but he seemed to be almost ashamed to do so. "Well, there's not much to say on my account either. You've already met my _esteemed_ brother, Spock."

Jim almost inhaled his soup. "Spock is your brother?!"

Sybok smiled wryly. "Yes, unfortunately for him."

"I think I know who's the unfortunate one, and it isn't Spock." Jim muttered under his breath.

The Vulcan's expression softened. He chewed a mouthful of seafood thoughtfully before speaking again. "I suppose you may be right. Spock has never suffered much misfortune. He is our father's golden child, a perfect example of a Vulcan. I, on the other hand, was nothing but a disappointment to him. He wanted a VSA graduate, married off to a good bloodline. Instead he got me. I thought that familial bonds would have been enough to spare me his degradation. I was, however, sorely mistaken. The water of the womb runs thinner than I knew."

Jim put his chopsticks down and steepled his hands under his nose. "What do you mean?"

Sighing, Sybok set his chopsticks down as well. "Vulcan children are educated from a very young age to believe that the key to self-knowledge is restrain and the tireless pursuit of logic. However, the more I took to studying it, the more I realised that this wasn't so. There are very few species in the Galaxy who suppress their emotions as Vulcans do, so does this make them any less worthy of self-knowledge? Has this ever hampered their attempts at reaching the pinnacle of their being? I came to the conclusion that the Vulcan way was, in fact, fundamentally wrong. Instead of repressing emotions, we should be embracing them! So I told my father this. He was so disgusted that he threw me out. When I went to the council to repeal this treatment, they ridiculed me for my theory and told me that if I was found living by my new mantra then they would throw me out of the academy. If I was found to be preaching, then they would banish me from Vulcan. Needless to say, I am no longer welcome on my home planet."

Jim's jaw went slack. "And your parents just let that happen?!"

Sybok nodded, picking up his chopsticks again and swirling the noodles around in the soup absentmindedly. "My father just stood and watched, Spock by his side. I haven't seen my home planet in over a decade."

"That's ridiculous! How could they have done that? What makes emotions so disgusting that they'd let their own son be banished?"

"As I mentioned before, the council threatened to banish me if I was found preaching my theories to others. I felt that it was such an important breakthrough for our society that it would have been selfish and irresponsible of me to keep it to myself. So I devised a way to share my emotions with others, so that they could better understand what I was trying to achieve." He paused, furrowing his brow in thought. "Are you aware of the Vulcan Mind Meld?"

"Vaguely." Jim replied.

"Well, I found that, under the right circumstances, two people could share their emotions through that link. Once people have felt what I felt, they began to understand. But it wasn't just about my feelings, they had to share their innermost emotions with me as well. When they did they all understood. They all wanted to join me." He paused again, his eyes dropping from Jim's face to his own hands, clasped in front of him. "They were scared of me. The council. They are so set in their ways they were terrified of anyone upsetting their perfect society. So long as logic dictated everything, they had control. So they banished me, never to return, so disgraced that even when crossing paths on a different planet, my family would not acknowledge me."

Jim felt his hands shaking. There was a kind of rage that came from hearing injustice. The kind of rage that was slow to burn, but once it burnt it was bright and fierce. It was the kind that he had felt the day Kodos had announced his cull. He felt it churning, bubbling away under his skin. He hated them, how could anyone turn their back on family like that?

"How dare they." he growled.

Sybok looked up, shock visible on his features.

"You couldn't have been out of your teens, how could they do that to you?!" Jim stood abruptly, the stool squeaking as he did. He felt his fists ball up, the more he thought about it, the more furious he became. He had to get out of there before he punched something. Jim stalked out of the restaurant and into the pouring rain. He swore and ran towards the nearest covered side street. Resting his head against the cool stone he seethed. That stuck up, self-righteous asshole! Sybok was worth ten of him!

Sybok appeared behind him holding his jacket over his head to shield him from the torrents of water once again. He stopped under the canopy and dropped his arm, stepping towards the Human. "Jim, it was a long time ago now, there's no nee-"

"I don't care!" He bit back. "Did they even know how lucky they were to have you?"

The Vulcan was silent, his dark eyes fixed intently on Jim's face.

"You're alive and well and they just threw you away! What a fucking waste of a life! My parents never got that chance, my dad died before he even saw me, before he saw my brother grow up. He didn't get a second chance, but your dad just wastes his! It makes me so fucking angry!"

"Jim…" Sybok began quietly, reaching a hand out to cup Jim's face.

He felt the anger disperse, leaving him feeling hollow. Tears were threatening to spill as the rain trickled from his hair down his face and neck. The Vulcan stroked a finger under his chin, bringing their faces together, and pressed a kiss to Jim's lips. It was firm and keen and Jim felt his pulse begin to race again, this time not with anger, but with want.

"Share your pain with me Jim." He whispered as he kissed him again.

Jim carded a hand through Sybok's hair. "I'll share anything you want me to. I'm all yours."

Sybok pushed wet strands of hair from Jim's face, his eyes boring into him, black in the shadow of the canopy.

Jim jumped as a shrill noise began to emanate from somewhere in his jacket pocket. The Vulcan stepped back as he fumbled to find it.

"Bones?"

"I think I've lost her, Jim."

Jim shifted out of Sybok's arms reluctantly. "Hey, hey, what do you mean?"

"I thought that going to Vulcan would bring us closer, but when I tried to speak to her today, she barely talked to me, Jim. She gave me this look, disdainful, like she was disgusted with me."

Jim frowned. "Bones, have you been drinking?"

"What do you think, smartass."

"Okay, okay, where are you? I'm coming to get you."

"I don't need a goddamn babysitter, kid."

"I never said anything about babysitting, old man. If you're going to get drunk, you're not going to be doing it alone."

Leonard was silent for a while, before sighing heavily. "I'm just at home. I'll leave the door unlocked. Thanks Jim."

The call disconnected with a low humm.

"I'm sorry, Sybok, I have to go."

The Vulcan let out a low rumble of displeasure, and nuzzled into Jim's neck. "Your friend needs you."

"Mhmm."

Sybok pulled away, and ran a thumb over Jim's cheek. "Until next time then."

Jim swallowed thickly, pulling Sybok in for one last kiss, clumsy, full of want, and desperate enough to leave him breathless, before running out into the rain towards Leonard's flat.


	4. Chapter 4

The morning of the Psych exam Jim got a call from Bones on Vulcan. He looked vaguely sunburnt and rather unhappy.

"So what's Vulcan like?"

"Too darn hot is what. I grew up in Georgia, summers there were hot, _this_ is suicidal! At least you'll be joining in with my suffering soon. Thank god for small mercies, huh?"

"So, how's Uhura?"

McCoy's face fell a little. "I haven't seen or heard from her since I got here. I don't think she even knows I'm here. I don't think she'd care."

Jim thought back to the night it all started to go wrong. Jim had been pressed up against a wall, Sybok's lips on his. He had been certain that it had been going somewhere when Bones had called. When Jim had found him he was sprawled out on the sofa, almost empty bottle of bourbon hanging from his grip. He had told Jim how he hadn't heard from Uhura since the dinner party, but that he had bumped into her at the Academy. She had barely said anything to him, and when he had asked her out for a coffee she had told him that it wasn't a good idea. Then she had left without another word. Leonard had been heartbroken.

Of course he'd never have admitted it outright, but Jim knew Len. He didn't drown himself in alcohol anymore, not unless there was something seriously wrong. They had both sat on his floor and drained another bottle, talking about Sybok, about the academy, trying desperately to avoid talking about Uhura, but it always came back to her in the end.

By the time he had sobered up the next day he was on the next ship to Vulcan.

"It doesn't matter anyway, I've got enough on my plate here. I had no idea how many of my xenobiology lectures I'd completely forgotten until now."

Jim laughed, and Leonard smiled wryly at the sound. "So when's your last exam?"

"This afternoon. Psych test."

He paled. "Psych test, huh? You'll be fine kid, just keep calm and you'll be fine."

"I am calm, Bones, what are you talking about?" Jim said, frowning.

"Come on, Jim, you and I both know that you haven't had the most emotionally stable life. You've got some issues. Ones that would probably have been easier to handle if you'd just gone to the shrink like I suggested."

He dismissed McCoy's worries with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine. I have my issues, but I reckon I've just about learnt to hide them by now."

"Sure, kid. Look after yourself."

* * *

Jim had been pacing outside the Academy building for ten minutes before he decided to go in. For all his bravado, the psych test worried him. He had arrived forty minutes early, something totally unheard of when it came to Jim Kirk. He followed the signs to a room in the western-most wing of the building. There was a desk in the centre of the room, and a chair on either side of it, otherwise the room seemed empty. Jim sat down in the chair closest to him and waited. He _had_ been early.

There was an odd clock on the wall to his left, all rotating squares and no numbers. The squares turned for another twenty minutes before Jim started to get really antsy. Tentatively he got up from his seat and peered out into the corridor. It was eerily quiet for the middle of a busy weekday. He glanced at the clock once more before leaving to see if he could find out what was going on.

He made his way down the corridor and round the corner. He could vaguely hear the sound of alarms caterwauling in the distance. He sped up to a jog. The sirens were getting louder. As he broke into a run he could see the flashing red lights just ahead of him, and a man running as best he could, a clear limp in his left leg.

"Hey!" Jim called. "Hey! What's going on?"

The man came to a halt just in front of him, panting and sweating profusely. "My lab! There was an explosion, there's radiation leaking everywhere, and the automated system isn't working!"

Jim stilled. "Shit, is everyone out of the lab?"

"Everyone but my wife. She's trapped in there, I can't free her on my own, but the longer she is in there, the more radiation she will be exposed to!"

It didn't even take Jim a full second before he nodded. "I'll go with you."

"But you'll be exposed to severe levels of radiation saving someone you have no connection to!"

"If I don't help you then your wife will die. I won't let that happen."

The man nodded slowly before pointing Jim down the corridor to a door at the end. Inside was a woman, trapped under a large, broken section of piping.

"Come on, it'll take both of us to shift this." Jim said.

The man nodded and ran over to the other side of the pipe. Jim knelt down next to the woman, who was crying silently around a vicious-looking black eye.

"Hey, my name's Jim, me and your husband are going to try and shift this pipe, okay? It might hurt, and it might take a few tries, but we'll get you out of here, I promise."

The woman said nothing, but nodded nervously.

He placed his hands under the pipe and shifted his weight until he felt stable. "I'm all set over here. You?"

"Yeah." Can the reply from the other side of the pipe.

"On the count of three, lift it and drag it backwards." He called. "One. Two. Three!"

With a metallic groan, the section of pipe shifted. The woman cried out, but crawled out from underneath the pipe just before Jim lost all strength, throwing the pipe back down.

The man rushed over to the woman and gathered her into his arms, before looking up at Jim. "Thank you."

Jim nodded, looking around at the wreck of a room. "The radiation is leaking out into the complex, we need to find a way to contain it. You said that this room has an automated containment feature right?" The man nodded. "So that means that once this room is sealed, it contains the radiation until it can be dealt with. So we just have to find a way to seal the room."

The man frowned. "The only way to close the door is the manual override, but that's inside the room. Someone would have to stay inside the room. That would be suicide!"

"No! There must be another way!"

The man steeled himself. "There's no other way. I have to do it."

"No!" Jim shouted, grabbing his arm. "Don't you dare go near that door!"

"But-"

Jim looked at the man and his wife, and swallowed thickly. "I'll do it."

The man was about to protest again when Jim put a hand up to stop him. "You have a wife who needs looking after, she looks like she is suffering from severe radiation poisoning. You two have a life to get back to. I don't have anyone who needs me."

A curious expression darkened the man's features before he nodded, taking his wife by the arm and leading her away. The sirens were still blaring as Jim took one last look at the only escape before he closed his eyes and pressed the button. As the doors closed in front of him he thought about his father. This must have been how he felt, that cold resignation, knowing that the life he had spent so long forging was slipping away. He took one last breath and waited for the darkness and the pain to come.

It didn't come. He released the breath. His legs began to shake, and he felt the room beginning to spin.

"James."

The door slid open with a decided whoosh and a figure was stood by his side, a steadying hand gripping his arm. The figure's voice was cold, but laced with concern. Jim cracked open an eye. Spock's face swam into view, his brow creased and his eyes stony.

"We've got to stop meeting like this." Jim said weakly.

The Vulcan sighed, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. "Indeed. Drink this."

Spock handed him a bottle of water. Jim took a sip, then another, his head clearing a little as he did.

"What are you doing here?"

"I work as an instructor at the Academy when I am on Earth. I designed this test and have been observing."

"That was the test? Well I guess I failed that one." Jim said, laughing bitterly.

A strange expression graced the Vulcan's features. "On the contrary, Mister Kirk, you passed quite conclusively."

"You're kidding!" He said woozily.

"Vulcans do not 'kid'."

Jim's laughter was bright and clear and lit up his face. Spock's grip faltered.

"Thanks."

"I have not done anything that requires your thanks." He took his hand from Jim's arm and stepped away, bowing stiffly. "Please excuse me. I have work to attend to."

"Sure. Thanks for the water at least."

* * *

Chris came to pick him up in the car. They didn't talk for most of the journey home, until Chris pulled over into a layby.

"Spock told me what happened."

"Did he?"

"Yeah. That test can be pretty fucked up, but we rarely have anyone choose self-sacrifice."

"Huh."

"Why did you do it, Jim?"

Jim frowned. "Because it was the right thing to do."

"The right thing, or just what your father would have done?"

He looked up at his step-father, disquieted. "What?"

Christopher sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Jim, what your father did was heroic, it saved a lot of people's lives, but I honestly can't believe that there wasn't another way."

"If there was, don't you think he would have thought of it?" he replied indignantly.

"There were other ways to pass that test, but you chose death."

Jim was silent. Pike sighed again.

"Look, what you did showed an incredible amount of compassion and resolve. You'll make an incredible captain one day, but please don't ever tell your mother about this. If she found out that you'd choose to leave her as well … I don't know what it would do to her."

Unable to meet his step-father's gaze, Jim only nodded. Pike started up the car again, and they returned to silence. He greeted his wife with a smile, and nothing more was said of it, but Jim was certain that there was a new weight on his shoulders, and a shadow in his gaze.

* * *

"Spock?" Uhura called, rapping her knuckles on the doorframe.

Spock was sat cross-legged on the floor, but cocked a brow in acknowledgement.

"Please come in, Nyota." he said softly.

"Everyone is waiting for you. You've been in here since you got here." She paused, looking around the room. The lights were dim and there was incense burning in front of a small shrine.

She sat tentatively on the edge of the bed and smiled wistfully at the Vulcan. "Are you alright, Spock?

Spock hummed thoughtfully before speaking. "I have been ... meditating on whether or not one can obtain any sort of pleasure purely from observing a pair of particularly fine eyes in a handsome face."

Nyota's brows shot up. "You were meditating on … fine eyes? Fine eyes in a handsome face?" She said incredulously. "Any face in particular?"

The Vulcan frowned and replied curtly, "No."

"No?" She echoed.

Spock remained silent for a moment before speaking again. "Kirk."

"What about him?"

"His eyes are … unusual."

Nyota looked at him quizzically. "Unusual in what way?"

"They are blue."

"That's not uncommon amongst Caucasian Terrans."

Spock fell silent again. He wasn't going to voice it, but the reason he had been thinking on them was that their shade of blue was so uncanny, almost impossibly so, that they haunted him. He saw the shade of Kirk's eyes every time he looked up, that clear, brilliant blue of summer sky.

* * *

The Psych exam was Jim's last before their flight to Vulcan. It took them nearly a week to get there, but Jim had never felt more exhilarated in his life. There was something about being on a starship. If he had ever had any doubts about want to be in Starfleet, this would have quelled them all. There wasn't a moment that the ship was quiet. There was a constant hum, like the ship itself was alive and breathing, and just the way the stars sped past … it was more than anything that Jim could have ever dreamed of. More than Earth ever had, flying through the stars felt like home.

Vulcan was nothing like what Jim had been expecting. The earth was reasonably red, it was true, and it was sweltering, a dry heat that seemed to permeate even the longest shadows, but Shi'Kahr itself was not the sprawling city he had been expecting. He wasn't sure whether to expect shining metal towers as far as the eye could see, or ancient sandstone structures, dark and oppressive. What he got was hundreds of strange, asymmetric buildings built into the side of the colossal crags that littered the Vulcan landscape. Each was made of flawless, smooth stone, and devoid of any glass. Every window opened the buildings to the outside world, but inside the buildings was just as advanced, if not more so than any of the modern homes on Earth, yet it felt as though each of the buildings had been there for hundreds of years. And on the very top of the tallest buildings were the pipes. It was the first thing that Jim had noticed when he stepped off the ship; the haunting, harmony of pipes singing in the high winds that whistled through the tallest towers.

"What's with the pipes?"

His mother shielded her eyes from the early afternoon suns and looked up at the set of pipes closest to them. "It was a part of Vulcan culture long before Surak introduced Vulcans to the concepts of logic and restraint. They are all perfectly in tune, and in harmony with one another. It's supposed to symbolise the harmony that one can find simply by existing in tune with one another."

"That sounds too poetic for Vulcans." Jim scoffed.

Winona frowned at him. "You know that I am not the fondest of Vulcans, but now we are here you must respect them for who and what they are. You'll find out a lot more about them as a people while we're here, you may find it's not all that surprising to find something so poetic entrenched into their society."

Jim sighed and continued through the city. There were a surprising number of green areas in the centre, swathes of scrub plants that reminded Jim of heather, and tall spiny trees with small bulbous fruit. He was also surprised by the sheer variety of Vulcans. He had only ever seen Vulcans with skin so pale it was almost translucent, but here there were Vulcans with deep olive skin, and some so swarthy they looked almost melanic, but all with severe brows, and sleek, dark hair. It pleased him to see the diversity. Perhaps his mother was right, perhaps there was more to these people than the stuck up ambassadors he had met on Earth.

The house they had been given to stay in was akin to the rest of the buildings in Shi'Kahr; light, airy, and flawlessly built. Most of the residential areas were much flatter than the towering city blocks, with very few of the houses having more than one floor. Their own apartment was all on the ground floor, all painted stone and chrome surfaces. Jim stood by the window, looking out over The Forge, taking it all in.

"Jim, dear, please tell me you packed your formalwear. I didn't check before we left."

Jim sighed, turning back into the house. "Mom, I'm not a kid any more, I can back my own damn bags."

Winona raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just make sure they're all straightened out for tonight."

"Tonight?"

"We've been invited to spend the evening with T'Pau, one of the eldest and most respected Vulcans, so behave yourself, okay?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Sure thing."

"No repeat of last time?" She said firmly.

"No, no repeat of last time."

She nodded and walked back out into the sunshine.

* * *

T'Pau's house was larger than any that Jim had seen on the planet so far, with several floors, and rooms upon rooms filled with Vulcan artefacts. He couldn't read Vulcan at the best of times, but the strange spirals, hooks, and flowing lines looked almost lyrical, and were completely illegible to Jim. They were led up the stairs by a young Vulcan woman, her hair cropped close to her face, and her expression blank.

The room they were escorted to was intricately decorated, with religious symbols littering the walls, and in the centre of the room were several chaise longe. Perched on the one farthest from the door was a Vulcan man, and an older Vulcan woman, who Jim assumed was T'Pau.

"Christopher Pike, Winona Pike, and James Kirk." Said the young woman before departing, leaving them in the room together.

T'Pau looked up from the conversation she had been having and looked over the three of them carefully. The Vulcan woman appeared to have a perpetually stern expression, but somehow less rigid than the Vulcans Jim had met before, although he wasn't certain whether that was truly her demeanour, or just her skin softening with age. Her greying hair was piled ceremoniously on the top of her head in twisting braids, but despite all of that her eyes were dark, sharp, and calculating. She was smaller than Jim in every way. She was slight, almost so slim that she seemed fragile, but everything about her manner and way of speaking contradicted that assumption entirely.

"T'Pau, it is an honour to meet you." Pike said, bowing low.

T'Pau nodded in return. "And I thee."

The man she had been talking to got to his feet and bowed. "I am Selek, and this is my cousin." He said, gesturing to the corner of the room.

Stood, looking at them with his customary brooding look on his face, was Spock. He did not seem as surprised to see Jim, as Jim was to see him.

"Spock!"

The Vulcan bowed. "James."

T'Pau looked from the Vulcan to the Human and back. "Thee know the Human, Spock?"

"I do, T'Pau."

The old Vulcan said nothing, but continued to watch them intently.

"What are you doing here?"

Spock looked at T'Pau and Selek before turning back to Jim. "T'Pau is a very high ranking priestess, an Elder. I am paying my respects, as is customary."

"I see. So being invited here is kind of a big deal for me then, huh?"

Spock raised a brow, but was silent.

"I'll take that as a yes."

T'Pau's attentions had been diverted to his father, and Selek was talking as animatedly as a Vulcan could muster to his mother, so Jim walked over to Spock, who was still brooding solemnly in the corner.

"I didn't know you were on Vulcan. When I saw you at the Academy I assumed you were working there." He said.

"I was, but that was the last examination that I had to oversee."

Something in his voice sounded off, but no matter how much Jim studied his face, he couldn't crack the mask. "Huh. Okay."

The two of them fell silent again. Only the muted talking from the small group, and the gentle sound of the Vulcan lyre drifting through from the adjacent room.

"I do not have the talent which some people, your people most of all, seem to possess," Spock said quietly, "of conversing easily with people, particularly those with whom I am not already acquainted. I find it difficult to judge the tone of the conversation, and to appear interested in their concerns. I see you do it with such ease, but it is not something that I have ever fully grasped."

Jim looked up at him. His the mask that only minutes before had seemed impenetrable, was suddenly strangely expressive. There was a vulnerability to him that Jim hadn't seen before, or maybe wasn't willing to see.

"Well," Jim began, "My Mom used to make me take piano lessons when I was little. I hated it, I could never play as well as my tutor and that always frustrated me. Since then I've learnt that the reason I could never play like her was that I never practised."

He gave the Vulcan a pointed look, a burgeoning smile on his face.

"I get the impression that I am being teased."

Jim laughed. "Tease? You? No one would dare."

Spock frowned, and Jim sighed. "What I'm saying is that if you spent more time talking to people rather than judging them from afar, you may find that you're not as bad at socialising as you think."

With that Jim got up and went to join his parents once again, leaving Spock looking contemplatively after him.

When they returned that night Jim replicated himself a mug of steaming Earl Grey tea with just a squeeze of lemon juice. As he retreated back into him room, mug in hand, he caught his mother regarding him with a sad smile.

"What?"

She stood up and walked over to him, placing a hand to her son's face. "You know, everyone always compares you to Ge- to your father, but you're more like me than you know."

Jim frowned. "What are talking about all of a sudden?"

"You'll figure it out eventually." Winona said, rolling her eyes and pressing a kiss to her son's cheek. "I did."

With that she bid him goodnight and left him to his thoughts.

* * *

Spock had refused to be taken in by his charms and looks. He had refused to find him attractive. He had convinced himself that no good could come of admiring a male of the species since no children could come of such an alliance and therefore the whole debacle would be a pointless exercise. Not to mention he found Humans barely tolerable in their most sedate nature, whereas Kirk was so bright and loud and brash that he found that he couldn't spend too much time around him before he became completely exhausted with the effort of being in his company. He had tried to look at him without admiration at the ball, and when they next met, he looked at him only to criticise. That was when the trouble started.

No sooner had he decided that he couldn't find a single part of Kirk's altogether too-human face that he found even the slightest bit attractive, he found the whole thing completely vilified by the incredible expression of his brilliantly blue eyes. Once he realised this, everything started to fall apart.

He had noticed before that Kirk had small, pale scars on his face and arms, he stood unevenly, and often slouched. His smile was lopsided and his teeth were not completely straight. However, in noticing these things he was forced to acknowledge the pleasing, golden colour of his skin, the way his body was slim, and toned; an almost perfect specimen of a male of his race, and in spite of everything, he found that his smiles were warm and genuine.

He was quick to anger, but also quick to laugh.

Being in his company had become something of an addiction. It was true that Kirk was bright and loud and brash, nothing like the other members of his species that Spock would normally spend his time with, but he was so bright that the Vulcan often had to look away, due to the sheer intensity of him. He was loud but his laughter and conversation could bring an entire room to life. He was impetuous, but honest in a way that Spock had never encountered with anyone else he had ever met before.

Spock sighed heavily, looking out over Shi'Kahr, sleepy in its pre-dawn twilight. Of course Jim had no idea about any of this. To him Spock was only the stony Vulcan who told him that he wasn't handsome enough to warrant a dance.


	5. Chapter 5

Even if they had been on Earth, Jim could have picked Bones out of the crowd without any trouble. He was hiding desperately under the shade of a large canvas canopy, frowning petulantly.

"Hey Bones, you look like you're enjoying yourself." Jim said as he sauntered over.

Leonard harrumphed, but stood and dragged Jim into a close hug. "It's good to see you, kid."

"Hey, hey, are you okay?" He said as he pulled away.

Bones laughed bitterly. "I've been better."

"What's happened?"

He sighed and sat back down. "So I tried to see Nyota, but they wouldn't even tell me where she was. They turned me away at the door and told me that she didn't want to see me."

"Turned you away?"

"Yeah, but I'd seen people go in just before, and just after me, so I can't help but think that maybe it was just to do with me."

Jim shook his head. "Neither of us have had enough alcohol for talk like this."

Leonard laughed again, but this time there was more mirth, and just a hint of sadness to it. "Yeah kid, tell me about it."

Jim was still fuming when he got back to the apartment that evening, but as the door whooshed open, his anger was quelled momentarily by the sound of animated voices. As he entered the room he saw his parents sat in the living room, accompanied by the most exquisite woman Jim had seen since Uhura had walked into the ballroom.

"Oh Jim, dear, come and sit down. Would you like a drink?"

He dumped his satchel down by the side of the sofa and sat down next to Pike. "No thanks."

"This is Christine Chapel, she was kind enough to show us around today." Winona said with bright smile. Jim knew where this was going. Christine _was_ a beautiful woman, big, blue doe eyes, and an air of defiance about her.

"Enchanted." Jim said playfully.

Christine blushed. "Likewise."

"Christine works closely with the Embassy, she knows Miss Uhura, Stonn, T'Pring, and Spock."

Jim frowned. "Really? Do you know them well?"

Christine looked at him curiously. "As well as anyone knows someone they see for work every day. So relatively well."

"I've heard that Uhura isn't seeing anyone at the moment, is everything okay?"

"Not seeing anyone? Oh, things are a little tense at the moment because of everything that happened when she was on Earth, but she's not _not_ seeing anyone." She said with surprise.

"What happened on Earth?"

Christine looked at him quizzically again. "Oh, I would have thought you'd've known, I heard that you were around at the time."

Jim's smile was just on the aggressive side of flirtatious. "It must have slipped my mind, please enlighten me."

She frowned. "I shouldn't say, if it got out it could cause some trouble for the Vulcan Embassy. I don't want to start anything..."

He leant forward. "Come on! I won't tell anyone, I promise!"

Christine chewed his lip, but sighed resignedly. "Okay, but I don't know for sure that it's about Uhura! All he said to me was that had recently "saved" a friend from getting into a bad relationship. He didn't say any names but I assumed it was Uhura, given that she was getting close to this one guy ... you know, dancing with him at every function, going out for drinks, seeing each other privately..."

"Did he tell you why he felt the need to stick his nose in?" He growled.

Christine "Apparently he didn't approve. There was something about the guy that he didn't think was appropriate for her."

"Appropriate? Right."

"Do you know the guy?"

Jim pursed his lips. "No. No idea."

"Right." She said, glancing over to Winona. "Well, thank you for the tea, I should really be going."

"Oh, of course." She replied, shooting Jim a warning look. "Thank you ever so much for today. Please feel free to come round at any time."

"Scaring off perfectly lovely girls now Jim." Winona hissed as Christine left. "What on Earth is wrong with you?"

"That guy she was talking about, you do realise that was Bones, right?"

His mother stared at him. "You're joking."

"No, I'm not. I spoke to him today, the stories match up. He's distraught. He has no idea what he did to deserve this kind of treatment."

"That son of a … Jim, this is awful, but please don't go doing anything reckless."

He sighed and sat back down heavily. "I … I won't, Mom, I'm just appalled, and angry, and … just when I thought that maybe he … that Spock wasn't …"

He trailed off as his mother pressed a kiss into his hair. "I know darling, I know. I'm sorry."

oOo

Jim was lying in bed that night, his eyes closed and his thoughts drifting, but very much awake. He didn't sleep much at the best of times, but now he had so many thoughts buzzing around his head that he didn't stand a chance. It was Spock's fault? Bones losing out on being with the woman he loved, that was all Spock's doing. All because he thought he was inappropriate?

There was a chime from the front door.

He frowned, then opened his eyes. No one came to visit him this late unless they were drunk, and if they were drunk then they wouldn't have used the doorbell. He groaned as he climbed out of bed, his muscles still sore from the day before, and padded over to the door.

He opened it with a swish and was shocked to see Spock standing in front of him, a slightly startled expression flickering over his usually-stoic face. They stood looking at each other for a few moments, neither of them entirely sure how they ended up where they were.

Jim broke first.

"Why are you here?"

Spock's eyes flitted from Jim's eyes, to his lips, then to the floor.

"May I come in?" he asked to the floor.

Jim stepped out of his way and watched in awe as the Vulcan walked into the room. He stood for a few moments, his hands clasped stiffly behind his back before he spoke.

"Are you well, James?" he began.

Jim's eyes narrowed a fraction, "Yes."

The Vulcan nodded tersely. "That is good."

They stood in silence for another few moments. Jim looked Spock up and down. If he didn't know any better he would have said that he was nervous. The way his fingers, clasped together behind his back, were twitching just slightly. The way that his dark eyes were looking pointedly at everywhere but Jim.

After a while the silence began to creep uncomfortably. Jim couldn't take his eyes from Spock and the Vulcan had still yet to look at Jim.

Jim cleared his throat. "Yeah ... so it's great and all, but it's the middle of the night, and you didn't come here just to ask me if I'm well. So spit it out."

Spock was slightly taken aback by the frankness of Jim's reply, but sighed, shaking his head slightly. He shouldn't have been surprised really. This was why he was here after all.

"I'm only on Vulcan because I heard that you were here." He confessed. "I had to see you, I … I have been struggling to repress these emotions. As a Vulcan, I am well versed in the repression and strict control of emotions, but in this case I find that I cannot restrain them. Despite my better judgement, despite your species, your sordid past, and despite your reckless and shameless nature, I ... James, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire, and … love you."

Only then did Spock's gaze fall to Jim.

He was still. Completely silent and totally overwhelmed. It had been the last thing that Jim had been expecting. There was no way that Spock could be in love with him, no way at all. It was madness. Especially given the fact that he had just waxed poetic about how he loved him despite all of his apparent shortcomings. Not a single word about why or how, just that he did even though he shouldn't.

Jim looked at the Vulcan again. Then his surprise, the little fluttering in the pit of his stomach, that little elated light, was extinguished, replaced with a white hot rage.

He turned to Spock, a snarl forming on his face. "Well, thanks, I guess. I think that's appropriate, wouldn't you say, to say thank you? I kind of don't want to though, you see I never wanted your incredibly low opinion of me. I never asked for it! I don't want you to feel like you have to strain your narrow Vulcan mind to offer these meagre opinions and feelings. God! Doesn't that sicken you? Can you add that to your sordid little list of things you love me despite of?" he spat, "So you can take your _ardent admiration_ and shove it up your tight Vulcan ass!"

Spock's eyes widened at this. He didn't even seem offended, he just seemed as shocked as it was possible for a Vulcan to seem. However, it wasn't long before that surprise turned to barely concealed contempt.

"May I enquire why you have refused me in such a brusque manner?"

"Oh you can _enquire_ alright! First of all, why the hell would you come and tell me that you loved me by letting me know about all of the little faults that you have found so _utterly deplorable_ in me that you've had to wait until now to get over them and tell me how you feel? If everything that you say is so true then you should have been expecting a _brusque_ response!"

The Vulcan frowned imperceptibly but remained silent.

"And don't even begin to think that that's the only reason! Why would I, hell, _could_ I ever love a guy who stuck his nose into a relationship that he had nothing to do with and completely ruin the possible future happiness of my _best friend_? Family doesn't always have to be blood, Spock. He was the family that I _chose_ , and you _chose_ to destroy the one sliver of happiness that that man has managed to find since he had everything he ever loved taken away from him!"

Spock's frown deepened but, again, he said nothing.

Jim deflated just a little. He shook his head, his tone just edging on desperate. "Aren't you even going to deny it?"

Spock felt his chest tighten. There was a glimmer of something in Jim's face, a waver in his voice, but he couldn't place it. He sighed and straightened his posture again.

"I see no reason to deny it. I did what I deemed best for a friend of mine. She was engaged in a relationship with a drunk divorcee who kept particularly dubious company and could offer her no stability. I saw no positive future to be gained through the relationship. It was only logical."

Jim's laugh was sharp and bitter. "Logical? Logi- Jesus Christ, Spock! Love isn't supposed to be logical! The positive future she could have had would have been happiness with a man she fell in love with! A good man, I might add. A darn sight better than you! He is a doctor, and he is only ever drunk because he was made a divorcee not long after his father died. His father was in so much pain that he helped him die, only to find out that if he had kept his father in pain a little longer they could have cured him, but he didn't. He couldn't see him in pain any longer and he has never forgiven himself for that. Then his ex-wife took everything, including his daughter. If you ever have kids, tell me that you wouldn't react like that if they were torn away from you? Even your tiny, shrivelled Vulcan heart must be able to comprehend that!"

Spock had paled considerably, he looked vaguely sick, but Jim didn't stop.

"In fact, the only time recently that I have seen that man happy was when he was with Uhura. Now you've taken that away from him as well. See what your logic has done! Are you pleased with yourself, you loathsome Vulcan prick!"

The room was still and quiet, Jim's last syllables still hanging in the air.

"And you know what, it's not even just that! It's your whole _Vulcan_ attitude! What you guys did to Sybok …"

"Sybok!" Spock interjected, with more force than Jim had expected. If he hadn't known any better he would have said that there was venom in his voice as he spat his brother's name. "What do you know of _Sybok_?"

Jim felt his lip curl, "Oh, I know him. We're quite good friends actually. But I get the impression that he might fancy a bit more. And you know what? I reckon we'd make a good pair. I'd much prefer his carefree attitude towards your fucked up Vulcan sensibilities than you, with your rod so far up your ass you'd turn away your own _brother_ for embracing his emotions. Is it so _disgustingly_ Human to feel these things, Spock? I've seen the man cry, which is more than I can say for any other Vulcan I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Jesus _fuck_! At least with him I'd know it was true! You say that you love me but I don't even think you know what it's like to have an emotion, let alone be capable of anything more complex. As far as I'm concerned, your brother has it right. _You're_ the ones that are fucked up!"

Spock was quiet as Jim let the anger drain from him, panting and shaking from the anger as it subsided, leaving a discomforting hole in his chest, and a deep sense of grief.

The Vulcan's eyes looked everywhere but Jim's face as he spoke. "This is the truth then, of how you really feel about me. You have my thanks for explaining it so fully. Now that you have made yourself so abundantly clear, perhaps you should return to Sybok." He spat the name, raising his voice in a way that Jim hadn't thought was possible for him to do. "Since you obviously know him so well, and since his existence shines so abhorrent a light on me. Go! Go and be happy in whatever kind of debauched and misguided bliss you believe you will be able to achieve with him!"

"Ha!" Jim scoffed. "Now you're angry. Isn't that an emotion, Spock? You can do emotions then? So, how does that make you any better than your brother?" The Vulcan's expression soured. Jim laughed bitterly. "You know, from the very beginning, from the moment you walked into that ballroom, with your stuck up friends and conceited attitude, and every moment we have spent together since has convinced me that you are the last guy in the entire _fucking_ galaxy could ever fall in love with!"

With that Jim stalked away from the Vulcan, leaving as much distance between them as physically possible. Another few weeks and he was going to be off that godforsaken planet for good, and hopefully he'd never have to look at another Vulcan ever again. 

* * *

Jim didn't see Spock the next day, or the day after that. He was glad, as far as he was concerned he never wanted to see that conceited hobgoblin again. Just the thought of the Vulcan made his blood boil. How dare he?! How dare he swan in and expect that of him, especially after everything he had done! Was he expecting him to swoon? To fall into his arms like some kind of southern belle at the thought of him loving him against his better judgement? The _fuck_ he was. Who the hell did he think he was?!

Jim pounded these questions into the pavement as he ran, music blaring in his ears, the frustrations melting into his muscles until they burned. The gravity was different on Vulcan, the temperature and humidity too, and soon Jim found himself getting tired, his lungs on fire and his limbs giving way. That was a good enough sign as any to head home.

The house was empty when he got back, and Jim was glad for it, it meant his mother couldn't shout at him for having an extra long shower, with real water, and Pike couldn't grumble at him for leaving his clothes strewn about the place. The shower hissed as it turned on, a gratifying cloud of steam appearing as Jim stepped in. The water pounded his shoulders, soaking his hair and washing the film of salt from his skin. His muscles were going to regret this in the morning, but as the water poured down his body Jim found that he couldn't care less for the cramps and stiff muscles of tomorrow.

The water shut off with a clunk and Jim grabbed the towel off the rack and rubbed it over his face and chest before wrapping it around his waist and wandering through to the bedroom. As he dragged the towel over his hair he heard a message ding from the other side of the room. He looked over to see his PADD light up beside the bed. Frowning, he picked it up. It was from Spock. For a second his heart clenched in his chest and he went to open it. Then he felt the anger again and growled, throwing it onto the bed and wandering back to the bathroom.

As he got to the door he heard the familiar automated voice informing him that his new message would be played. Groaning, Jim ignored it and began to aggressively brush his teeth.

"James." the message began. "Jim".

He paused his brushing. Spock never called him Jim.

"I … I admit that I am glad you did not answer my call. I have no desire to tell you this to your face, if nothing else because seeing your face again after being refused in such a manner would cause me great pain." Jim spat the remnants of his toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. "I shall not renew my sentiments, although they remain unchanged. I only wished to … explain." Jim stuck his head around the door to see the Vulcan's severe eyes set in a solemn expression, projected above his PADD. If he hadn't known any better, Jim would have said he looked almost forlorn.

"My actions regarding Nyota and your friend, Doctor McCoy, were meant well. I had thought that I was saving a friend from a lifetime of abuse and unhappiness. I felt that since one partner had left him, and he had wallowed in spirits, why should he not do that again. Evidence has shown that history repeats itself, so for this I won't apologise. I'm not sorry that I separated them, although I am sorry that I didn't take the time to … to better understand the doctor, and see that perhaps the situation was more complex than I had first thought." Jim snorted, flopping back onto the bed, upsetting the PADD so that it played Spock's message at an angle instead. It would have been comical, if Jim hadn't been seething.

"The second matter I wished to address was that of my brother, Sybok. I'm aware that he has told you about how he chose to embrace his emotions and was shunned for doing so. However, this was not the full story. Vulcans do not act without forethought and logic, we would not have turned him away so readily unless there was a valid reason to. Jim, let me assure you, there was good reason."

Jim propped himself up on his elbows, cocking his head to the side, mimicking the jaunty angle the PADD had fallen to. Holo-Spock sighed before continuing.

"Sybok is my half-brother, his mother was High Master T'Rea. After her death, Sybok became obsessed with reaching her katra so that he could learn the location of Sha Ka Ree, the Vulcan version of your Christian Eden. He was obsessed by it, consumed by this need to reach it. However, in pursuit of this misguided quest, Sybok mentally assaulted another Vulcan, a watcher at the Hall of Ancient Thought, leaving her crippled. The Vulcan assembly banished him, and while my father will never admit it, it was a great blow to him, and he struggled with his own emotions for a long time afterwards." Holo-Spock paused and Jim realised that he had been holding his breath.

He released it shakily as the Vulcan continued. "Had this been his only crime, then I doubt he would have been anything but welcomed with open arms when we met again on Earth. However his banishment did nothing but fuel his desire to reach Sha Ka Ree. Unfortunately he realised that he could not achieve this alone and had taken to assaulting others, offering to share his pain so that they might better understand his quest. This sharing of pain was nothing more than a reliving of the victim's most painful experiences, every heartbreak, grief and regret… it is needless to say that this broke many people. Sybok used his own mental healing to temporarily fix what he himself had broken, leading many to believe that he had guided them through some sort of self-discovery. In truth, all he had done was violated their minds on a most heinous level. He did not care for them, or their pain, all he wanted was to be a step closer to Sha Ka Ree."

Jim had stilled, the message was still playing, but he could barely hear what was being said. He heard Sybok's words in his ears. _Share your pain._ He didn't want to believe it, but it all made sense. How could he have been so blind? He felt the ghost of his kisses and his stomach roiled at the thought. He replayed the message again, until he had the entire story ingrained into his memory. Spock hadn't rejected him because of his emotions, he had rejected him because he was insane, and his insanity was getting people hurt. Sybok had been banished to protect people.

If he had been so wrong about this, what else had he been wrong about?

His mind was swimming. He had to get out, to clear his head. He had to stop thinking about Spock, it wasn't doing him any good. Just because there reason for what he did didn't mean that reason was an excuse. Yet it didn't matter where he went, there were always Vulcans, and every one reminded him of Spock. _That's what you got for going to the homeworld, Kirk._ He mused. One place that Vulcans rarely went were the gardens. There was something about the decorative flowers that most of them seemed to think too arbitrary to spend any time around.

The Earth Embassy gardens were just how Jim had hoped they would be. A little slice of home in the endless Vulcan dust. There were bright, bulbous bromeliads, and tall, green palms. He brushed his hands against the bark of a cypress as he walked along the decorative path than ran through the gardens. There were cedars with delicate white flowers and plump yellow berries, red hot pokers, bright bougainvillea, and acacia. He breathed in deeply and he could smell the eucalyptus and honeysuckle. He felt a smile creep onto his face.

"Smells like home, doesn't it?"

Jim startled. The voice took him by surprise. He had thought the garden was empty.

Looking down he saw a woman kneeling in the dirt. Her skin was tanned and her was hair dark, peppered with streaks of grey, falling prettily around her face. She wore a traditional hooded Vulcan tunic, grey and loose fitting, and thick gardener's gloves on her hands. She stood up with a groan and brushed herself off.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise anyone was here!"

The woman smiled, her face creasing as she did, a warm light in her eyes. "It's not a problem, don't worry! I was just tending to the garden. I try to keep some Earth plants growing here, but it's difficult. The soil is all wrong and the environment is just too harsh."

She frowned down at the sad-looking daylily at her feet. Jim touched a leaf on the bush next to him gingerly. "You seem to have done pretty well. It's nice to see some green amongst all this dust."

The woman's face lit up. "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say."

Jim scratched the nape of his neck self-consciously. "It's not flattery, honestly. Only the truth."

She took off her right glove and offered out her hand. "Amanda."

"Jim." He said, looking at her hand quizzically before taking it. "Vulcans don't normally shake hands."

Amanda's laugh was bright and clear, lyrical and a welcome sound on such a repressed planet. "Oh honey, I'm not Vulcan." She said, removing her hood to reveal round, Human ears. "I just married one."

This time Jim was the one to laugh. "You _married_ a Vulcan? I don't mean to be rude, but I thought they didn't do the whole … love thing."

Amanda smiled wistfully. "Oh I assure you, they do. Just not perhaps in the way that Humans are accustomed."

Jim raised a brow. Amanda raised one in return. "There, see! That's a very Vulcan trait." She grinned. "They fool themselves into thinking that they are emotionless, expressionless things, but the thing is, it's all in their eyebrows."

Jim laughed. Amanda was pleasant company, kind and refreshingly Human. They talked for a while about the plants, about Earth and the academy. She invited him into her house, at the other end of the garden to the Embassy, out of the glaring Vulcan sun. She boiled some water, soaking some tea leaves in it and strained the amber liquid into two drinking bowls.

Jim smiled as he sipped the tea. It was bitter like all Vulcan tea, but Amanda had mixed some honey in to sweeten the taste. "So, if Vulcan's don't love like Humans do, how _do_ they love?"

The woman glanced thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Quietly. Very slowly, almost not at all, and then all at once." Jim swallowed thickly. "Vulcans feel very strongly, often more strongly than Humans, but they control it, keep it hidden. So hidden, in fact, that it can often take a good decade for a Vulcan to realise that they feel anything for someone at all, but then that's the Vulcan way. I remember the first time Spock realised that he like that Uhura girl, he-"

Jim inhaled his drink. Amanda frowned, reaching over to pat him on the back.

"Spock?" Jim wheezed.

Amanda nodded. "My son. Do you know him?"

Jim's mind was reeling. "I …" he stammered. "Yes … I do … I mean … a little, I guess."

"You didn't know he was half Human?" She said, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards.

Jim shook his head slowly, taking a shaky sip of his drink again and clearing his throat. "But he … he's so …"

"Vulcan?" Amanda finished. Jim nodded. "Yes, the Vulcan genes are strong, and he takes so much after his father. He was a miracle child. After so long, there he was, squalling just like a Human. I thought that he would be a perfect medium, half Human, half Vulcan, but growing up here was so difficult for him. He never got to be a child, because children don't have childhoods in the same way here."

She looked so sad, it hurt to think of how lonely it must have been for her, to see her child grow up so cold. Jim touched her hand gently. Amanda flinched and looked up, her expression softening as a few rebellious tears spilled down her cheeks. She brushed them away with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, I'm going on and on. I just don't know when to shut up."

Jim frowned, clasping her hand in his. "Please don't apologise. It must have been difficult for you. I'm no Vulcan, you don't have to hide your emotions from me."

Something flickered over her expression so briefly that Jim didn't catch what it was, then she smiled gently and squeezed his hand back. "You're a kind boy, Jim. A good person."

"Cadet Kirk?" Came an exclamation from the doorway. Jim froze as Spock stepped into the room. Amanda looked up at her son, then back to Jim. The name Kirk spilled from her lips and Jim knew he had to leave. He mumbled an apology and left, brushing past Spock on his way out. As soon as he got to the other end of the garden he broke out into a run, flinging the gate open and sprinting down the road.

He stopped to brace himself against a building, gulping in the air until his heart stopped pumping so furiously.

"James."

Jim looked up to see Spock standing beside him, a sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Jesus, you Vulcans are fast." He panted. Spock said nothing, his gaze glued to the floor. "Look," Jim began. "Spock, I'm really sorry. I didn't know it was your house, and then your mum invited me in for tea and I-"

"Jim."

The name was spoken so softly it barely registered, but he paused and looked up again to see the Vulcan clasping his hands nervously behind his back again.

"I … thank you."

Jim frowned. "What for?"

Spock shifted from one foot to the other. "For spending time with my mother. She gets lonely sometimes, even though she lives so close to the Embassy. It does her good to spend time with other Humans."

He nodded and straightened up. "It was a pleasure. Send her my apologies for leaving so abruptly. It was rude of me." Jim paused. "Just tell her I suddenly felt ill … or something."

Spock nodded. "Please feel free to visit her again, if you wish."

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

"It would be no imposition. She seemed to be enjoying your company." His eyes flitted over Jim's face for a moment before returning to the ground. "She does not invite just anyone to drink tea in her home."

A strangely comfortable silence fell between them for a few moments before Jim spoke. "I need to go and get some shopping. I said I'd cook tonight, so I'd better …" He trailed off and gestured behind him.

The Vulcan nodded. "Shall I show you to where the Terran shops are, or will you be cooking Vulcan food?"

Jim winced. He had wanted to leave as soon as possible, but in reality, he had no idea where the Terran shops were, and he and Chris weren't exactly staunch vegetarians. "Just point me in the right direction and that'd be great."

Spock nodded again, but ignoring his request lead him through the narrow streets of central Shi'Kahr himself, amongst the towering spires and rugged rock formations that made up the city. When they reached the shop Jim flinched. All of the signs and tickets were scrawled the swirling, spidering hand of the Vulcan shop attendant. "I'm really sorry, Spock, but I might need your help. I don't read much Vulcan…"

Spock merely nodded and followed him into the shop. Jim told him what he wanted and they collected the bits and pieces quietly as they went. Jim didn't even try to stop him when Spock walked him home. 

* * *

When they reached the house, Jim knew something was wrong. He could hear a woman sobbing. His mother didn't cry, unless...

"Mom?" Jim said tentatively as he walked through the door. His mother was kneeling on the floor, trembling. There was a cracked PADD beside her, flickering with distorted images that Jim couldn't make out.

"Mom, what's wrong?" He dropped the bags and rushed over to the distraught woman. She didn't answer, breaking down to another bout of hysterical tears. "Mom, you have to stop crying and tell me what's wrong!"

"D-deneva P-prime..." she sobbed, "The-they att-tacked th-the colony ... y-your b-broth-ther..."

Jim felt cold dread wash over him. He took his mother by her shoulders and gripped her tightly. "Mom, who attacked Deneva?"

"P-p-parasites. Neu-neural parasites." she choked.

Spock stilled behind Jim.

"Parasites ..." Kirk breathed

Pike stormed into the house, glancing at Jim before taking a deep breath and reaching down to comfort his wife. He shushed her, smoothing the hair from her face and wiping away the tears before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. He pressed soothing kisses to her brow and gently squeezed a sedative hypospray into her neck, letting her fall gently from his arms. Closing the door softly behind him, he made his way back into the room.

"What's going on?" Jim said pleadingly.

Pike looked at him, stony faced. "Your mother couldn't take it. Losing George nearly killed her, losing Sam? I'm so sorry Jim." His shoulders sagged. He looked older. "There have been reports of rioting and mass homicide on Deneva Prime. They didn't know what it was at first, just that people were going insane, but they've discovered this parasite … it latches onto the nervous system, tortures the host, drives them to insanity and then … death."

Jim was numb. He could hear his step-dad talking. He heard the words 'too far gone', 'lost cause', he heard 'quarantine' and 'destroy', but he felt nothing. Then he heard a soft voice from behind him.

"Tushah nash-vey k'odu"

His voice was like boiling water on ice, he felt it seeping through the cracks. _Tushah nash-vey k'odu_. He felt the white hot anger. _Tushah nash-vey k'odu._ He felt the sickening grief tugging at him. _Tushah nash-vey k'odu_. But there would be no grieving. Not until he knew his brother was dead. Not until it was definite that there was nothing else to be done. He didn't believe in no win scenarios.

"No."

Pike stopped pacing and looked up.

"No." Jim repeated. "No, he can't be dead. I don't believe it!"

He paced back into the living room and picked up the dying PADD from the floor. "They said that Deneva had been attacked, they didn't say if the parasites could be killed, or if there was any way to save the infected! They didn't say that they even tried!"

He hit the PADD a few times, the image flickering more clearly each time. The picture shuddered one more time before the sound crackled in.

" _-tims seem to be hiding inside. I repeat, the victims seem to be hiding inside. If you see anyone hiding_ ** _do not_** _, I repeat,_ ** _do not_** _approach them!_ "

The images were shaky, recorded on some sort of hand-held device. There were people screaming, buildings burning, figures skulking in the shadows. A child ran out from his father's grasp, running towards an abandoned building. The child crossed the shadow of the block. The father cried out in desperation. Something flew out from a broken window, knocking the child flat. There was something, mottled and red, clinging to his back. A parasite. The child screamed. Someone shot a phaser, hitting the creature again and again, but the child carried on screaming. He screamed and screamed until, suddenly, he fell silent.

Jim felt his hands shaking as he replayed the clip over and over again. He studied every movement. There were more clips, more reports but still he didn't understand. How were they doing it? Why were they doing it? How could they stop it? He needed to be there, he needed to go down and study it. He didn't care about the quarantine, if he had a chance to save Sam, to save Deneva, then he was going to take it.

"I need to go to Deneva."

Pike looked up. Jim didn't know how long it had been, but Christopher and Spock were sat at the table, staring into empty mugs.

"Jim." Pike began.

"I need to go to Deneva."

"It will take days to get there. It'll be too late."

Jim rounded on him. "I can't just stay here! I need to _do something_!"

Pike was quiet, he glanced at Spock.

"Don't you both look at me like I'm deranged! This isn't just Sam, this is an entire colony we're talking about!"

When neither of them replied Jim snarled, retreating back to the sofa, playing the footage through again.

Pike sighed wearily, turning to the Vulcan. "I'm sorry that you had to be here to see this Spock."

Spock shook his head. "Do not apologise, I am sorry for your loss."

"The sun." Jim said quietly.

The conversation died. Pike looked over at him. "Jim?"

"They never go into the sun." He said, a little louder this time.

"Let me see that." He said, taking the PADD from his step-son and sitting down on the sofa. Jim and Spock sat on either side of him as all three of them pored over the footage.

"You're right." Pike breathed.

"Then we have to do something!" Jim said desperately.

"But what can we do?"

Spock stood abruptly and walked towards the front door. He paused briefly glancing back at Jim before leaving without a word.


	6. Chapter 6

Jim wasn't certain why Spock had left in the way he had, or why he had left at all, only that perhaps he felt his being there was an imposition. Whatever the reason had been, Jim hadn't had time to ponder over it. The moment they had worked out a weakness Jim and Pike had set out to contact the Denevan colony, to no avail.

"Chris, I can't just sit around and not do anything! I have to do _something_!"

Pike was pacing agitatedly in front of him. "Jim, there's nothing you can do, short of breaking more laws than your surname can weasel you out of."

"Who gives a damn when there are thousands of people dying on that planet, and no one is doing anything!" He replied exasperatedly.

"If we go down there en masse, then we'll all get infected too, and that just costs more lives. We can't do anything until we work out how to solve this problem."

"Then I'm going alone!" Jim said with a growl.

The look Pike gave him almost stopped him in his tracks. "Jim, don't be stupid. Your mother's lost too much already, she can't lose you too."

"She's not going to lose me." He replied, more gently.

Pike sighed. "You're not going to give up are you?" Jim shook his head. "Fine. I didn't see you. I have no knowledge of where you're going. And you had better get back here before your mother strangles me for letting you leave"

Jim nodded.

* * *

The hangar was fairly busy, busy enough that no one noticed a young man in civilian clothing, making his way to one of the smaller shuttles. For the first time since he'd started the entrance exams, Jim was glad of all the reading he'd done. He knew exactly which model was which, and he knew all of their faults inside out. This particular SB11 had a fault with the stationary locking mechanism, making it the easiest for Jim to acquire with the least amount of fuss. With more than a little effort, he prised the hatch ajar, and clambered inside. The shuttle was boxy, and outdated, but it had warp capacity and that was what was important. Now all he had to do was manage to get it out of the hangar without being stopped. He didn't care if they knew it was him, he didn't care if this ended his career, he couldn't leave his brother, or the other colonists, to die. Not without trying everything he could.

He made his way into the cabin, and sat down in the captain's chair. The dashboard was simple, but more manual than he was used to. He refused to let it deter him. His father had been one of the most skilled pilots of his age, he wasn't about to sully that title now. With more apprehension than he was willing to admit, Jim started the engine. As he heard the engine whirr to life, it appeared several other people in the hangar did too.

"No turning back now Jimbo." He murmured as he disengaged the inertial dampener, and began to accelerate towards the hangar doors. Several of the ground crew were now waving their arms at him frantically, shouting things at him that he wouldn't have listened to even if he had been able to hear them. He pushed the throttle forward a little more as the doors of the hangar began to close.

"No you don't!" He cried as he sped towards the narrowing gap, barely scraping through as the doors clamped shut behind him. The sky was open to him now, although he was aware of the flashing warning lights that had begun to flare up behind him. He was going to be in _so_ much trouble.

As he exited the atmosphere he re-engaged the inertial dampeners and fastened his belt, preparing to warp. The initial jump was rougher than he was used to, since he had never warped in such a small craft before, but it wasn't long before the shuttle settled into the rhythm. The journey itself wasn't very long, but with every passing hour Jim knew that the likelihood of rescuing the Denevans grew slimmer. He found his hands and feet growing restless, tapping and shaking as the minutes passed. When the time finally came to slow the craft down, Jim was beside himself. As the ship came out of warp the reality struck him. The usually busy planet was void of all spacecraft. There were no signals reaching him, and the whole place seemed eerily quiet. Jim locked the shuttle into orbit and made his way to the transporter.

He took a jacket from the locker beside it and zipped it up. He might not be wearing armour, but he'd be damned if he'd be caught without any line of defence. With that he entered the closet-like transporter, closed his eyes and pressed the button.

When he materialised, the surface was deceptively peaceful. The sun was beating down warmly on his back as he wandered through the city. The streets were dead, the only sound the rustle of leaves as they skated across the pavement.

"Mister Kirk, come in Mister Kirk." Jim jumped at the sound. "James Tiberius Kirk, do you copy?"

Jim fumbled inside the jacket and removed a small communicator from the breast pocket.

"Mister Kirk, do you copy? If you can hear this, please answer. Answer and we will not reprimand you."

Jim winced and flipped it open. "Is that a promise?"

"Mister Kirk, while we do not approve of your methods, we cannot allow you to die down there. Please be advised that some new information has come to light, and it is actually necessary for someone to be on the ground. Your recklessness has automatically volunteered you for that position. Congratulations."

"Thanks?"

"We need you to lure out as many of the infected people as possible, and keep them outside. We are moving satellites into position, and when we give you the signal, you must shield your eyes and do not open them again until we tell you, okay?"

"Okay."

"You have approximately twenty minutes. Good luck Kirk, you might just be this colony's last hope."

"No pressure then." Jim muttered under his breath as the captain signed off.

Twenty minutes wasn't enough to search for people, or even to get across the whole city, not matter how fast he run. Jim cursed under his breath. He knew what he had to do, and it was probably going to kill him.

"Hey! I said _HEY!"_ He shouted, as loud as he could. He rapped on the closed doors and made his way down the street. "I'm out here, I'm not even a little bit infected! I'm a perfect host, just come and get me!"

The street remained silent, not a stir of movement. Jim frowned, looking around. He kicked at some railings with a clang. Maybe, if he could just … running over to the nearest tree he jumped up to snap a branch off one of the lower hanging boughs. Taking the branch he ran along the street, dragging the branch across the railings. The discordant clanging rang out into the empty street and Jim smiled. This had to get their attention.

"I'm right here, come on out and get me!"

There was still not the slightest sign of movement from any of the buildings. Jim felt the frustration building now. He had wasted five minutes at least on this, he was running out of time. What could get them out? If the parasites were keeping them alive, then they were using them. They needed the colonists, they were keeping them alive.

That was it! What did all creatures universally have in common? The need to survive.

Jim ran the branch up and down the railings again and shouted at the top of his voice. "If you don't come and get me, then I'm going to kill you all. Every last nasty little parasite! I know your weakness, and unless you come out and get me, I'm going to get you!"

There was still no movement, and Jim felt his heart sink. That was until he heard the creak of a disused door opening, and a shriek. Across the street from him was a small child, staring in his direction and pointing directly at him. The shrieking grew louder as two adult figures appeared in the doorway behind the child. They just stood their shrieking at first, until the child took a step out into the sunlight. Jim felt the adrenaline spike as he realised that, perhaps, it had worked a little too well.

"Come on then! You don't like the sunlight, do you? But I'm out here, and you're in there. I know how to get rid of you for good, and I'm going to do it!"

The girl stopped shrieking for a moment, taking another step out into the light. Behind her, the two adults stepped out behind her. She shrieked again and broke out into a run. As she did, Jim could see more people leaving the safety of their shaded shelters and running at him.

Jim swore again and bolted, running from the screaming people as best he could, still hollering at them, making his way towards the only part of the city he really knew; Sam's neighbourhood.

He had visited the place on a number of occasions, once when Sam had first moved, again when he had married Aurelan, and again when his nephew was born. It had been years, but he remembered it well enough. Jim wove his way between the tall apartment buildings, distinctly aware of the increasing number of shrieking colonists behind him.

"Come on you cowards! Can't you even come out and protect your own species?" He shouted up at the apartments. He could feel his voice growing hoarse as his lungs seared with the effort. He could see the familiar row of houses in front of him, and a familiar figure stood outside it.

"Sam? Sam!" Jim shouted. The figure looked up from the doorway, a look of confused recognition gracing his features.

"Jim? Is that you? Don't come near me!"

Jim could barely pause to breathe, the other colonists coming up behind him. "Come out here Sammy!"

Sam shook his head, and his reply came in broken sobs that Jim would still be haunted by for years afterward. "I can't, this thing is controlling me, it won't let me, it wants to infect you!"

Jim slowed to a jog as he approached the house. "I know, but it's okay, just come out to me, it'll be fine, I promise."

"How can you promise that?"

"Please Sam, just come to me."

"I'm going to kill you." Sam said as he stepped out towards his brother.

"No, Sam, it's okay, Just close your eyes, everything will be fine, I promise!"

"Please, just kill me, Jimmy." Sam whimpered, falling to his knees, eyes closed in resignation. "Aurelan and Peter are hiding in the basement. Please get them out of here when you've finished."

Jim strode towards his brother and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, and burying his head in his shoulder, eyes screwed shut. As he did a muffled voice came in through his communicator, and a blinding flash enveloped them all, followed by a cacophonous shrieking. When the light faded Jim felt all of his energy leave him, and the world went dark.

* * *

When he came to everything was so bright that he wasn't entirely certain he wasn't dead. The light was white and clinical, and when his hearing cleared he could hear the buzz and whirr of machinery. His mouth felt dry as he spoke. "Where am I?"

"Vulcan." Came a voice from beside him. Jim turned to see a nurse, clad in long white robes, with stoic Vulcan features, stood by a blinking monitor.

"Oh." He breathed. "What happened to the colonists?"

"Those who were outside at the time of your extraction are here, and are recovering. I do not know the fate of any others." She replied.

"And my brother?"

"George Samuel Kirk is still unconscious, but in a stable condition." She said. "Now that you are awake I am to inform Starfleet. They have a representative waiting to speak with you. Excuse me."

The relief that he had felt only a moment ago was washed away by the chill of fear settling in his gut. He had been distraught, he hadn't thought about repercussions. After everything, he was probably not getting into the Academy now. If he was being honest, he's be lucky to get off without a prison sentence.

The doors whooshed a moment later, and a middle aged man in sharp dress uniform entered. He did not greet Jim, only taking a seat by his side and regarding him carefully.

"Mr. Kirk." He began. Jim winced, the use of his surname was never a good thing. "We should have you disciplined at the very least for the stunt you just pulled, if not exiled to a mining planet for reform."

"Sir, ple-"

"However," He continued, ignoring Jim's outburst. "It was due to your bravery, or stupidity, though I am not certain which at this point, that so many of the Denevan colonists were saved." Jim went completely still. "We have also heard that the original discovery of the parasites' aversion to Ultra Violet light was yours. So in light of this we have decided to formally pardon you of your crimes."

Jim gaped. "You … you what?!"

The man smiled and stood up, donning his cap. "We hope to see you at the Academy in September, cadet."

Jim watched, open mouthed, as the man exited the room. He had managed to steal a Starfleet vessel, launch himself into a quarantined planet, taunt a hostile, infectious being, and save his brother, all with barely a scratch on him, or his record. The nurse came back in to issue him with a release form, and return his clothes to him, and he was free to go. He could scarcely believe any of it. First things first he had to find his brother. The nurse had mentioned that he was in the same hospital, but not where he was. He needed to find whatever Vulcan receptionist could tell him where Sam might be. The hospital was all brushed steel and glass, and as wide as it was tall. Thankfully, the Vulcans were ever logical in all aspects, the layout of the hospital was intuitive. Despite the vast expanse of winding corridors, it all made sense. For the first time, Jim was actually glad of their need for order. He had almost reached the front desk when he heard someone call his name.

"Jim!"

He spun around to see Sybok striding towards him, his face a picture of concern.

"Jim, are you alright? I heard on the news, Deneva Prime, I came as soon as I could."

Jim was taken aback, but he managed to nod his head.

Sybok frowned, taking Jim's hand in his. "You don't have to lie to me Jim, you know I'm not like them. You know I understand. Share your pain, Jim, it doesn't do you any good to keep it locked up inside."

 _Share your pain._

Jim ripped his hands from the Vulcan's. "Don't touch me!"

Sybok's face fell, lost and confused at first, before darkening with realisation. His face twisted into an ugly smirk, his handsome features distorted. Reaching out he gripped Jim's arm. Even if he hadn't been weak with exhaustion, his Vulcan strength would have made it impossible for Jim to escape.

"Let go of me you son of a bitch!" Jim cried out.

"So, you've had a little chat with my brother, have you?" He said venomously.

Jim growled. "What if I have? Nice to know _he_ can be honest with me."

"Honest? You think that's honesty? When they are all lying to themselves, that's not honesty, that's delusion!"

"You're the only delusional one, Sybok."

A wild, darkness passed over his face and Sybok's grip tightened.

"Sybok!"

The Vulcan spun round with a snarl. Standing in the doorway was T'Pring, face a picture of flawless disinterest, despite her tone. Her eyes flitted from Sybok to Jim and back.

"T'Pring, sister, I didn't think I'd see you here." Sybok said, smiling toothily.

"Nor I you. You were exiled for good reason. You should let Mister Kirk go, and then leave on the first available flight. I do not care its destination. If you do not, I shall make sure that you suffer the consequences."

Sybok loosened his grip on Jim's arm, and Jim snatched it away.

"Well then, dear sister, I bid you goodbye. And to you, Jim. I hope to see you again _very_ soon."

"Oh, you won't." He spat.

Sybok's expression soured as he stalked away.

"That traitorous …" T'Pring began.

Jim laughed. "I was surprised the first time Spock lost it, but you? I never would have expected it."

T'Pring turned to him curiously. "Spock?"

"Yeah, we got into a fight a while back. He's kinda terrifying when he's angry."

She raised a brow. "I would not know, I have yet to experience it."

"Seriously?"

T'Pring nodded. "You are a curious young man, Mister Kirk. I believe I may have underestimated you."

"I hope so." Jim replied wryly. The Vulan's mouth twitched just slightly and Jim wasn't certain, but he could have sworn that was the beginning of a smile. But with that, she nodded tersely and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Jim called out. "T'Pring, have you seen Spock around?"

T'Pring paused, and turned around to face him once more. "Spock is unwell and has been confined to his quarters." She replied curtly, adding, "No visitors are permitted."

His pulse began to speed up at the thought. Spock wasn't the kind of person to get sick, let alone be so sick that he would be confined to his quarters. "Unwell? Is it serious?"

T'Pring's cold expression thawed slightly at his concern. She considered him for a moment longer before speaking. "Spock was very ardently invested in a rushed electromagnetic spectrum experiment. For some reason it would appear your recklessness has rubbed off on him. Something to do with Ultra Violet radiation, though I cannot say for sure. It left him blind."

Jim nodded quietly. He couldn't have. He wouldn't have done that. There was no way Spock would have done that. It wasn't logical.

"The healers have said that the damage is not permanent." T'Pring said. "Although all of this is purely speculative, and if I knew anything for certain it would be confidential, and I certainly wouldn't share it with the likes of you. Do you understand?"

"I do. Thank you."

She raised an amused brow. "I don't require your thanks. I have an appointment, farewell."

He had expected some kind of reprimanding when he finally saw his parents again. Instead what he got was armfuls of pure, unadulterated happiness, and relief. His mother didn't say a thing, simply held him tightly. That was enough. Pike nodded at him, before pulling him into an equally crushing embrace.

"You did good, kid."

Jim gripped him back in earnest, before turning to his brother. He was still unconscious, as he had been told, but he looked restful, rather than unwell. Jim had never been more certain that he had made the right decision. The rules really meant nothing when it came to human life, and family.

* * *

The lull of calm after such activity was not as welcome as Jim had hoped it would be. There was a restlessness that he just couldn't place. His mind kept wandering to a pair of severe, dark eyes. He couldn't understand it, after everything, did Spock really put himself in so much danger? Was he really that selfless a person? A few months ago Jim would have laughed at the thought of it, but now … now he wasn't so sure. And knowing the truth about Sybok, and seeing it for himself … had he been wrong about him from the start?

It was driving him crazy. He had to see him, speak to him. He needed to know if this new, kinder, braver man that he was discovering was new at all, or if he had just been an ass.

As the doors to the embassy slid open, he was greeted with a face he had not been expecting.

"Bones?"

McCoy looked startled but pleased. He smiled warmly and clapped Kirk on the shoulder. "Hey Jim, what are you doing here?"

"I was … looking for someone. More to the point, what are you doing here?"

Leonard scratched the back of his neck and glanced over at Nyota. "I'm shadowing M'Benga with a private patient here."

"And she just happens to be here as well?"

Bones flushed darkly. "No, she came to see me. Turns out there was some sort of misunderstanding. We're actually, umm, just on our way out. Together."

"You are, huh?" Jim smirked.

"Yeah." He replied flashing Jim a bashful smile. "Who are you here to visit anyway?"

"I … umm … no one, it's nothing."

"You're here to see Spock." Bones said. It hadn't been a question.

"What?!" Jim balked. "What gave you that idea?"

"Maybe the fact that you've been mooning over him for months now. Fine line between love and hate Jimbo."

Jim felt his face heat up. "I don't _love_ him! I can't love him! I …"

Bones just smirked and patted his shoulder consolingly. "Sure thing kid. But he isn't here anymore anyway. He went home this morning."

"This morning? Oh … okay. Thanks."

"No problem. Go get your man, Jim!"

Kirk rolled his eyes and headed out towards Spock and Amanda's house. The day was not as pleasant as the first time he had ventured out to his house. The sun was harsher, but the day was hazy, visibility leaving a lot to be desired as the umber light filtered through the murk. When he arrived at the gate the garden was empty.

"Amanda? Amanda, are you home?" He called.

When there was no answer, he unlocked the gate and walked inside. The door was unlocked, but when he opened it, he found the house deserted.

"I had hoped thee would not be here. This has only confirmed my suspicions." Came an elderly voice from behind him.

"I wouldn't have taken you to be a suspicious person, T'Pau." Jim replied cautiously as he turned to face her.

T'Pau was standing in the doorway, clothes and hair as impeccably formal as ever, despite the weather. She waved his comment aside with a nonchalant hand. "Regardless, I _did_ require an audience with thee, as a matter of some severity has been brought to my attention."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

She frowned imperceptibly. "It concerns thee, and S'chn T'gai Spock."

"Spock? What do you mean?"

The look she gave him was nothing short of disdainful, and if she had been Human, Jim would have called it disgust. "I have heard from several sources that Spock has decided upon thee as his bondmate. Therefore I must ask thee, are thee bonded with Spock?"

Jim clenched his jaw. "No."

"Has Spock asked thee to bond with him?" She asked impatiently.

"I just said we weren't bonded, why would it matter if he had offered? Even if he had, obviously nothing came of it."

A flicker of irritation crossed the old Vulcan's face. "I shall make this perfectly clear to thee. S'chn T'gai Spock is betrothed to T'Pring. It has been that way since their infancy. They are bonded in the traditional Vulcan way, and once their time comes they shall be fully bonded in _koon-ut_. What say thee to that?"

"Well, if he's already bonded, he can't be bonded to me, so that makes this entire conversation kind of moot." Jim said indignantly.

"Facetious, headstrong child! Thy parentage may be considered decent by Human standards, but I refuse to allow Surak's bloodline to be further polluted by thy presence!"

"If you're quite done insulting me, I'm leaving." Jim growled with barely concealed rage.

T'Pau looked affronted by the mere suggestion. "I did not give thee leave."

"Yet here I go. Have a pleasant day, T'Pau." He said, sickly sweet sarcasm dripping from his every word. It was worth it for the graceless huff he heard escape from the elderly Vulcan lady as he left.

* * *

What troubled Jim the most was the fact that T'Pau had even considered that he and Spock might be bonded. As far as he knew, no one else had heard of Spock's confession, and he certainly hadn't told anyone. That only left Spock. Why would Spock have told T'Pau about his feelings, and why would she only have confronted him about it now? Unless … unless Spock still …

Jim shook the thoughts from his head. He couldn't get ahead of himself. After speaking to T'Pring he had already had his hopes resurrected. Perhaps Spock really had experimented with the UV so that he could save Sam. Maybe he just did it out of duty to Starfleet, but then T'Pring had specifically mentioned his own recklessness. Then there was the miraculous reconciliation of Bones and Nyota. It couldn't all be a coincidence, could it?

Just as he rounded the corner he saw a figure at the end of the dusty street. As they saw each other they both began to move just a little faster towards one another. Spock looked a little dishevelled, and wearing far more casual clothes than Jim had ever seen him in before. It wouldn't have surprised him if he had simply got out of bed and left the house as he was.

"Spock," Jim said, his voice quieter than he had expected it to be "I was just looking for you."

"And I you." The Vulcan replied.

"I heard you were ill, did you … are you okay?"

"I am … fine. T'Pau-" Spock began.

Jim nodded. "I know. She wanted to know if we were bonded."

"I know. She contacted me as well. She told me that you … you wouldn't answer her questions, you refused to deny her, and when you did … well … I hoped …" Spock trailed off, his eyes lingering on Jim's face. Jim looked back, but said nothing. The Vulcan lowered his gaze again. "I have been assigned to the USS Bradbury."

"Congratulations." Jim replied quietly.

"I declined."

"What?!"

"I have also been offered a permanent teaching position with Starfleet Academy, and since you shall be attending ..."

"Spock…"

The Vulcan raised a hand and the sentence died on his tongue. "I understand. If you still feel the way that you did when I last … I … My feelings and wishes have not changed, and if yours have not either, then it is not too late for me to change my mind. The Bradbury does not leave for another week, so there is time to find another First Officer." He paused and looked up once more, dark eyes meeting blue. "However, if your feelings have changed, then it shall mean that I can remain close to you, should you wish me to."

Jim was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching the Vulcan's face for something. How his face had changed since they first met. It wasn't that any of his features had changed at all, more that they had been contextualised. It had gone from being a stoic, expressionless mask, to conveying more emotion than Jim had ever seen in any one person. The twitch of a lip, the drop of a gaze, the slight pucker of his brow, each meant something different now. Jim found that every miniature expression brought him such warmth. After everything he had done for Jim, and after everything they had been through, he could no longer look at the Vulcan objectively. He found that he loved every last inch of him, every vice and every folly, because he understood them now, and they each contributed to the whole. To Jim, he was perfect.

"You'll be a professor, and I'll be a cadet. You're kind of a stickler for rules, and we'd be breaking a pretty big one, don't you think? How am I supposed to survive knowing you're right there, but I won't be able to kiss you?"

The Vulcan's head shot up, a mixture of confusion and delight gracing his features. Jim smiled softly and reached out to touch the Vulcan's hand. The pads of his fingers brushed his skin and Jim felt a rush of warmth and relief and overwhelming affection. Spock returned the gesture, tracing a lazy circle into Jim's palm, and smiling so gently it almost broke Jim's heart to see it.

"I may be your superior now," Spock said quietly, his voice rougher than it had been a moment before. "But given your personality, you will do well at the Academy. You could be an officer in four years."

Jim grinned. "I'll do it in three."

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!**


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